


The Sidhe

by Chazzam



Series: The Sidhe [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 06:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 107,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1541129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chazzam/pseuds/Chazzam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Epic romantic fantasy adventure, seriously AU, with angst and fluff in equal measure.</p><p>The Sidhe are a powerful race of elves that have been weakened and enslaved by humans.  Blaine has always hated the practice, but over the years he has grown resigned to it as a social reality. </p><p>But everything changes when he finds himself falling in love with one of the creatures, and becomes determined to help him escape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the following warnings before you read: this fic contains desriptions of graphic violence, slavery, and mind control. I am not tagging this story as non-con, because there are no graphic, eroticized or in any way descriptive rape scenes. However. Rape is definitely discussed and implied in some places, in a way that I am hoping is sensitive and appropriate to the story. Please be mindful of your triggers before you proceed, and please feel encouraged to contact me on tumblr if you have any specific questions.

Blaine had never particularly cared for the flesh markets.

He supposed he should have grown numb to it by now, but it still seemed very wrong. As a young boy in N'auri, his Grandmother had taught him that the Sidhe were a noble, powerful people who were to be respected and slightly feared. They were beautiful and magical, and catching a glimpse of one meant good luck until the next new moon.

Blaine had always been captivated by the Sidhe. The first time he actually saw one was at the age of twelve, a gorgeous, slender creature slipping out of the river near Blaine's cottage and into the forest, completely naked, and laughing like music.

It was also the very moment at which Blaine realized that he liked boys.

The second time he saw a Sidhe, he was confused. He was at the market with his mother, and he saw what was unmistakably one of the beautiful elves. It was a female this time, and her beauty had been blunted by a loose burlap dress, lank hair and dull eyes. She followed a haughty looking woman mutely, wearing an iron collar.

"Mother, what...that's a Sidhe, isn't it?"

"Yes," his mother said in a tight, clipped voice. Blaine could tell the sight was upsetting her.

"What...why is she like that? What's wrong with her?"

His mother paused, and turned around to face him.

"She's a slave, Blaine," she answered softly.

Blaine stared at her in silent shock. He didn't even know where to begin.

Over the next few weeks, Blaine managed to extract more details from his mother, who seemed reluctant to vocally acknowledge this ugliness to her son.

He learned that, though the Sidhe were naturally very powerful, they had been captured and traded as slaves for many, many years in Villalu. Their powers were suppressed with iron collars or by injections of verbena tincture. Blaine had never seen a Sidhe slave before because the region where he lived was very poor, and only the very rich could afford a Sidhe. Sidhe were rare to find and difficult to catch.

There was a lot his mother didn't tell him, though.

She never told him about the flesh markets. She never told him what exactly it was that so many of these cultured, aristocratic men with cold, hard eyes liked to use their Sidhe slaves for.

It wasn't until he was awarded a scholarship to attend the Academy in Villalu Proper that he began to hear whispers of it. And what he didn't hear spoken he deduced when his own sexual awakenings began to reveal previously hidden social truths.

Sexual relations between men were just as officially taboo in Villalu Proper as they had been in N'auri, though here the official stance was accompanied by a nod and a wink. Blaine had no trouble finding willing partners at the Academy, and he never had any true fear of getting caught. Those boys that were caught were generally scolded with laughing eyes, told to get it out of their systems now while they still could and to be more discreet in the future.

It was a different matter altogether with the Sidhe, though.

Amongst the very wealthy generally, and royalty in particular, it was common and accepted for men to purchase Sidhe for sexual use. The gender of the Sidhe was socially irrelevant. The elves were not human, and therefore nothing done with them was of much importance. Half the wealthy married men in Villalu Proper seemed to own a Sidhe, and a man using his Sidhe for pleasure was considered no more scandalous than using his horse for transportation.

At first, it had sickened Blaine.

It still sickened him, he supposed, but he had been more or less forced to accept it as a social reality.

Many of Blaine's classmates had been given the use of their fathers' Sidhe on their sixteenth birthdays, at the traditional passage into manhood. Some of the wealthier boys had even been gifted with a Sidhe of their own. And the entire purpose of Blaine's work at the Academy was to gain the station of courtier at one of the royal courts, where the presence of Sidhe slaves was downright ubiquitous.

Blaine had perhaps become slightly numb to it. Sometimes it hit him afresh, though, when he saw one of the proud elves with defeated eyes, limping along, luminous flesh marred with bruises.

Sometimes he still cried silent tears about it in his bunk at night, embarrassed by his own childish incredulity that the world could be so cruel.

Of course the world was cruel. Blaine had known that for a very long time. He knew it when his grandmother was murdered in her bed during one of the many raids on his village that he had managed to live through.

He knew it when his mother spent the day after one such raid limping and sobbing and lying in a curled ball while Blaine brought her clean rags to lie on in exchange for the blood-soaked ones he would then wash in the river.

He knew it when, nine months later, his mother gave birth to a baby boy that could not possibly have been his father's, and when, a month after that, his father had run off with a barmaid.

His mother had made him compete for the Academy scholarship less because she saw the promise in him, and more because she simply could not afford to feed both Blaine and his brother any longer.

By the time he left home, his mother's eyes reminded him uncannily of that first Sidhe slave he had seen in the market all those years ago.

* * *

But still, all that pain had not hardened him against this.

He had been in Prince Dronyen's employ for close to a year now, and already he had been selected to accompany him to the flesh markets to select a new "toy."

Dronyen seemed to use up his "toys" pretty fast.

Blaine hated him.

But only a little bit more than he hated himself.

Dronyen yawned broadly to himself as the next Sidhe was ushered on to the platform before them, this one a female.

"This is honestly the worst batch I have ever seen," Dronyen drawled. "If I don't find something new today, I may have to just go ahead and use Brissa tonight, and that would just be  _too_  depressing."

Brissa was Dronyen's wife.

Blaine was trying not to look at the stage. He was trying not to see the flashes of anger buried in the defeated eyes, as one magnificent being after another was offered up for abuse and degradation.

But then a flash of blue caught Blaine's eye and, reflexively, he turned.

And the world stopped.

Because before him on the platform was the most breathtaking creature he had ever laid eyes on in his entire life.

The Sidhe was supple and lithe, as all Sidhe tended to be, with pale skin that glowed like moonlight over lean, taut muscles. Like all the others, he was being auctioned off naked so that the buyers could see the full extent of what it was they were bidding on.

And he was extraordinary, head to toe.

His hair was gleaming chestnut, and fell to just below his ears. His lips were pink and delicate, and his eyes...

His eyes.

It wasn't just that they were the most incredible color imaginable – A soft, vivid blue slightly tinted with sea green.

And it wasn't just that they were large and almond shaped, with a fan of amber lashes.

It was the fact that they were full to the brim with  _life._

Never before had Blaine seen a Sidhe slave with such lively and expressive eyes. They were not dull or defeated in the slightest. Wary, yes, and utterly devoid of trust, but also _blazing._

Blazing like that Sidhe he had seen slipping up the river bank when he was twelve years old. The only free Sidhe Blaine had ever had the chance to behold.

The elf stood on that platform as if he owned it, as if he were judging all of them, and not the other way around.

He tucked a lock of hair behind a delicately pointed elfin ear, his chin jutting out to reveal a chiseled jaw which contrasted beautifully against his tender features.

And though he knew it was insane, Blaine was pretty sure he was in love.

He also knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Dronyen was going to purchase this elf.

Even so, he was not prepared for how painfully his heart constricted when Dronyen shot out of his seat, eyes alight with blind, unmasked hunger, to begin the bidding.

The bids went high. Blaine wasn't surprised – if he had never seen anyone so beautiful, he was sure none of these men had either.

When the bidding was down to three, as was traditional, the men were allowed to touch before finalizing their bids. Blaine felt a surge of rage at how their meaty hands pawed at the Sidhe's perfect skin, inspecting the inside of his mouth, the pads of his feet, the cheeks of his ass.

And the look in the elf's eyes when they did it was gut-wrenching.

Because it was the first time Blaine saw the fear. It was raw and unmasked, and it tore into him and made him want to charge the platform and throw himself between this perfect being and these repulsive swine who actually felt entitled to touch him.

Blaine felt himself start to die inside when Dronyen placed the winning bid.

Blaine rode behind Prince Dronyen on the journey home, torn between deep sorrow and boiling fury. The elf rode with Dronyen, flush against the front of his body. The Sidhe had been outfitted simply in breeches, a jerkin, and leather slippers, and Blaine was grateful that he had at least been granted the temporary dignity of clothes.

* * *

It was one of the worst nights of Blaine's life, right up there with his Grandmother's murder and his mother's rape. He could hear how much Dronyen was enjoying his newly acquired property, and Blaine was fairly certain he heard more than one loud whimper of pain coming from the prince's bedchamber as well, and Blaine simply buried his face in his hands and cried.

He told himself he wasn't going to do it. He swore he wouldn't. But even as his brain denied it, his body moved silently through the castle, creeping past guards and sliding around corners until he was at the hallway that led to the Sidhe's cell.

It wasn't guarded. Why would it be? The elf's veins were surging with Verbena, effectively nullifying any threat he may have posed in his natural state.

Let alone in  _this_  state.

Because he was curled up in a corner against the stone walls, moonlight seeping in through the bars at the window onto his pale, glowing skin, now purpled with bruises.

The elf's face was pressed into his knees, and he was sobbing.  _Sobbing._  Blaine had never heard a sound of such pure, musical, tortured pain. It somehow managed to be horrifically beautiful, and it was utterly soul-shattering.

It was only because of his reaction to this sound that Blaine realized maybe, despite who he had become and what he had allowed himself to grow accustomed to, maybe he hadn't lost his soul quite yet.

And Dronyen? Dronyen had no soul. That Blaine was certain of. Dronyen was able to hear these sobs and go about his life. He was able to use this ethereal being like a piece of meat and throw him, naked and battered, into a cold stone cell when he was through. He was able to take pleasure in trying to break something beautiful.

But Blaine wouldn't let this creature – this Sidhe – this  _beautiful_   _man_ be broken. He wasn't sure what exactly he was going to do, but it had to happen soon. If there was any way Blaine could rescue him tonight - before Dronyen could get his hands on him again - he would, but he knew he couldn't. It wouldn't do either of them any good if Blaine was executed for trying to free the elf, since he was pretty sure no one else cared enough to try.

But soon. Because if there was even the smallest chance that Dronyen could manage to dull the light in those ocean eyes, Blaine would never forgive himself.

Never.

* * *

That night in his bunk, Blaine tossed and turned and whispered to himself feverishly, hoping that he could somehow will the beautiful enslaved Sidhe three floors below to hear him.

"I love you," he whispered.

And, "I'll save you."

And, "I'm sorry."

"I'm so, so  _sorry._ "


	2. Chapter 2

A week. Blaine decided that he had a week. It was far too long for his comfort, but a single minute was far too long for his comfort too.

He needed a plan. And he needed money. And he needed just the tiniest shred of the Sidhe's trust.

That last part proved to be the most difficult of all.

Blaine easily secured himself the task of looking after the elf, bringing him breakfast and a change of clothes on his first morning there.

The Sidhe looked up at him with tired eyes and tear-streaked cheeks, and Blaine almost stumbled backward at the hatred he saw there.

That first morning the Sidhe refused to speak to him. But Blaine persisted in bringing the elf small comforts like soft blankets and warm water to bathe with, and a pail full of fresh honeysuckle (his Grandmother had always told him that the Sidhe's favorite food was honeysuckle).

The pail of flowers earned him his first ghost of a smile, as well as his first taste of the elf's voice.

"Thank you."

Blaine rolled the words back and forth across his mind, relishing the voice; sweet and soft and higher in pitch than the average human male, it was like balm for Blaine's ears. It was an oasis in the midst of the horrible male voices Blaine spent his life surrounded by, all gruff and harsh and booming and bellowing.

It was the best thing Blaine had ever heard.

On the fourth day, Blaine dared to ask the elf's name.

He looked at Blaine suspiciously.

"Why do you want to know?"

"I...so I know what to call you. I'm Blaine."

The elf looked away. "You wouldn't be able to pronounce it."

"Well, what do humans usually call you?"

"They don't."

"Well...what can  _I_  call you?"

When the Sidhe looked back at him, his eyes were throbbing with desperate, angry pain.

"What do you want from me?" He whispered.

Blaine looked nervously around him, making sure that they were alone. He leaned in close, his forehead almost touching the bars of the elf's cell.

"I just want to help you."

The elf stared at him, and Blaine had never felt so utterly naked and vulnerable from a pair of eyes on him before in his life. He forced himself to look back steadily, putting everything he had into that look, doing everything he could to make the Sidhe  _see._

 _I'm safe_ , he willed his eyes to communicate.  _You can trust me. I won't hurt you. I want to set you free._

The elf looked away again, and Blaine thought he'd lost him, and maybe all this was hopeless, and maybe-

"Kurt."

"Pardon me?"

"My name...you really wouldn't be able to pronounce it. But you could call me Kurt. It's a shortened version, kind of a pet name that members of my feririar used to call me."

"Your fer...?"

"I suppose you could say like my tribe? Flock?" Kurt sighed. "The people I came from."

He sounded so wistful that Blaine almost hated himself for having asked.

"Kurt," said Blaine thoughtfully. "That's lovely. I've never heard anything like it before."

Kurt shrugged. "My full name is prettier."

"What is it? I mean...even if I can't say it, could I hear it? Maybe? If...you want to tell me. You don't have to."

Kurt studied him. He looked entirely unsure of what he should make of Blaine. Blaine offered him a nervous smile.

Kurt almost – but not quite – smiled back, and then spoke his name.

He was right on both counts: There was absolutely no way Blaine would ever be able to pronounce it, or even come marginally close.

Also? It was beautiful.

He could hear  _Kurt_  buried in the name, though, and it did seem to make sense that that would be the part to pluck out and use for a nickname.

Blaine smiled. "Pleased to meet you, Kurt."

Kurt's expression darkened.

"Don't do that," he said flatly, turning his back on Blaine.

"Don't do what?"

"Pretend we're friends. Or even friendly. Pretend you see me as more than an animal. Pretend you don't know what your prince does with me every night."

Blaine swallowed hard. He didn't know what to say.

Kurt walked over to the barred window and looked out over the courtyard. Blaine had always found it odd, how the cell had one of the best views in the castle. Perhaps it was less so that Kurt would have a nice view and more so that the entire court could catch a glimpse of the prince's prettiest possession.

"Kurt, I do see you as more than an animal. In fact, I see you as more than human, if most of the humans I've met are anything to go on."

Kurt didn't turn around.

"And...I'm pretty sure Dronyen has never asked you what you wanted to do, which makes me think that he's probably been doing things  _to_  you, and not  _with_  you. And I know Kurt, I really do, that what he does to you isn't your fault. It doesn't make you any less...perfect."

Kurt slumped a bit against the window sill, but continued to look outside, away from Blaine.

After a few moments more, Blaine walked away, feeling deflated.

He didn't see that there were tears in Kurt's eyes.

* * *

The night had come, and Blaine could not sit still. He had spent the entire week treading along a knife's edge of safety, at risk of being caught for one of any number of things at any given time.

First there were all the things he had stolen from the palace. From Dronyen.

Then the fact that he had sold most of them on the black market.

The carriage he had waiting in the forest outside the city walls? The one with all the maps to Faerie country and stolen supplies from the palace guard? There was that too.

And there were the keys he had "borrowed" from the gatekeeper and had copied after plying him with liquor one night.

Not to mention the fact that he had bribed the cook. And the fact that the cook had slipped a sleeping drought into the soup that night.

And now Prince Dronyen and all his men, and Princess Brissa and all her ladies were passed out cold, and Blaine moved quickly through the palace, his heart pounding in his chest.

This had to work. It just  _had_  to.

When Blaine reached Kurt's cell, he suddenly forgot himself, his plan, the urgency, the risk, all of it, because he couldn't help but take a moment to just  _behold._

Kurt had made a nest out of the blankets Blaine had brought him, and was curled up in a pool of moonlight. He was wearing the freshly laundered breeches and tunic that Blaine had supplied, the lacing at his throat loose and falling open. His lips were parted slightly, and he looked so gorgeous that Blaine could barely stand to watch him.

It was the first time Blaine had seen him look anything close to peaceful.

Hating to disturb him but remembering the situation, Blaine spoke hesitantly.

"Kurt."

No response.

Blaine repeated his name a little louder, and a little louder still, and then made a thoroughly embarrassing attempt at Kurt's full name, which he was actually glad Kurt didn't awaken to hear.

He wasn't sure what to do when the elf continued his unbroken slumber. He didn't want to walk into the cell and shake him – after being raped every night for at least a week and God knows how long before that, Blaine certainly wasn't going to risk any type of unrequested touch.

Flinching at the deafening quiet, Blaine rapped his keys against the bars, hard.

Kurt jerked at the resultant sound, sitting up with a start and looking terrified.

"Kurt," Blaine whispered. "It's me."

Kurt gave a small, strangled noise of fear and confusion.

"It's Blaine," he clarified, in what he hoped was a soothing tone of voice. "Look, I know you're probably scared right now, and this is a lot to wake up and take in, but we need to leave right now."

"I...Blaine?"

"Yes."

"Is this a dream?"

"No."

"I don't understand."

"We...we need to go. Now. Escape. Get out of here. So you can be free?"

Kurt just stared at him.

"You want me to go...with you."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I can't stand to see you like this. Because this life is making me into a horrible person. Because...I don't know, I suppose because it would mean I was finally doing something I could be proud of."

Kurt looked unconvinced.

" _How?"_

Blaine sighed irritably. "Time is somewhat of the essence here, Kurt. I've been planning this all week. I just need you to come with me. Do you trust me?"

"No."

Blaine laughed nervously. Right. Of course. Why the hell would Kurt trust him? That was a ridiculous question to ask.

"Well, do you at least trust me more than Dronyen?"

"I don't know."

Oh. Well, there it was. Blaine had at least hoped that he'd gotten a bit farther along than this by now, but he clearly didn't understand just how little reason the elf had to _ever_  trust a human man.

Blaine fidgeted a bit. Okay. If this was really about freeing Kurt, and not about Blaine running off with some beautiful boy that he had convinced himself he was in love with, Blaine had to prove it. To himself as well as Kurt.

"Look, Kurt. I have a carriage waiting outside the city with maps to the Faerie lands. Dronyen and Brissa and all the palace staff are in a drugged sleep, but I'm not sure how long it will last. If you want to, you can come with me and we can try to get you home. Or, you can stay here. Or, you can let me help you escape, and you can go off on your own and never see me again as soon as we leave the city. Though I hope you'd at least consider staying with me until the verbena is out of your system, because you would definitely be safer that way. But it's up to you. I'm not going to force you to do  _anything._  But I will say this – if we're going to go, we pretty much have to go right this minute, because I have a feeling that once things start to unravel, they're going to unravel fast."

Kurt stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"All right," he finally said. "Let's go."

* * *

Reaching the courtyard was easy, crossing the palace walls more difficult. Blaine and Kurt had to crouch in the shadows for some time, studying the movements of the patrolling guards, before they felt brave enough to continue forward. There was a small gate about three hundred yards from the main entrance, used primarily by groundskeepers and the like. It was just big enough for a single person to fit through, and if they timed it right, they could slip through unnoticed.

Blaine pushed what he believed to be the appropriate stolen key into the lock on the little door.

It didn't work.

Panic rising in his chest, Blaine began to fumble through key after key, his eyes darting around wildly in case they should be discovered.

He heard a delicate gasp behind him, and saw Kurt press back into the shadows just as Tepper, one of the night guards, approached.

"Who...Blaine?"

"Um, yes. Hi, Tep. I was just...I couldn't sleep, so I was just going for a walk."

Tepper furrowed his brows, coming closer.

"Why are you using  _this_  door?"

"I didn't want to bother anyone with opening the main gate."

"How did you even get a key?"

His Maj gave it to me. Said it would be fine if I used it."

Tepper continued to advance.

"Hey, wait a minute, isn't that His Maj's S-"

It happened so fast, Blaine almost couldn't believe it himself. As soon as Tepper was within range, Blaine threw the keys to Kurt and shot his hand out, hitting him hard in the temple with the heel of his hand.

Tepper crumpled to the ground.

Blaine reached down to grab him under his armpits, turning his head around just as Kurt managed to unlock the door.

"Hurry!" Blaine whispered urgently.

Kurt stood aside to let Blaine drag Tepper through the gate and then followed them, locking the door behind him.

"What are you going to do with him?" Kurt whispered, sounding nervous.

"Gag him and tie him up. I don't want anyone finding him until we're  _very_  far away."

"Why don't you just kill him?" The question was delivered without emotion.

Blaine looked at Kurt in surprise. "Tep's not a bad person. He just...he just doesn't know any different, Kurt. It's not like he deserves to  _die._ "

Kurt snorted and turned away.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just...interesting how much reverence you people seem to have for  _human_  life, that's all."

Blaine let it go because they really didn't have the time. He leaned over and hoisted Tepper over his shoulder. They ran into the forest, as far away from where the carriage was hidden as Blaine could manage without losing too much time.

He sent Kurt to find some strong vines while Blaine ripped the sleeves off his own shirt. He stuffed one into Tepper's mouth and used the other to tie it in place. When Kurt returned with the vines, Blaine tied Tepper securely to a tree, trying to place him in a not-horribly-uncomfortable-looking position.

It may be a day or two until he was found, but he  _would_  be found. Because once it became clear that Prince Dronyen's prized possession had been stolen, the palace guard would be combing these woods.

Next Kurt and Blaine went to the place where Blaine had tied up his horse, attached to a cart. Blaine's heart lurched when he untied the animal and gave a firm smack to her hindquarters, urging her away.

"Goodbye, girl," he murmured. He hoped she would be okay. He really couldn't take her with them, as she was too distinctive-looking and not nearly fast enough to meet their needs. She would provide a helpful distraction, however, which Blaine hoped would slow the inevitable search party down.

The horse ran, the wagon making a muddy path in her wake.

"This is the tricky part," Blaine said to Kurt softly. "We can't leave a trail, so try your best to stay off the ground."

They crept along rocks and tree stumps until Blaine stopped at the base of a particular tree and motioned upward to Kurt.

Once high enough in the canopy, it was clear that there was something of a path from tree to tree if they stuck to thick branches. Even verbena-soaked, it was clear that Kurt was better at this than Blaine, as he seemed just about as sure-footed here as he did on land.

Blaine, on the other hand, crept along slowly on his stomach, gripping the branches with his arms and thigh muscles, willing himself not to fall.

They finally dropped down beside the carriage. Blaine motioned with his head for Kurt to climb inside.

Blaine lit the headlamps and prepared the horses. There was a swath of weighted horsehair attached to the back of the carriage to wipe their path clean. They wouldn't be following any trail, but Blaine had already determined a tricky, winding path that would take them to a road far outside the city walls.

When Blaine opened the carriage door, Kurt saw that he was clad only in his underthings. He gasped, a look of dread and dawning comprehension moving across his features.

Blaine's eyes widened. "Oh! No...I...I have to change. This is only going to work if people think that you...that I own you." Blaine flinched at his own words.

"I have to look like I'm rich. I...have some things in here. Could you please pass me that satchel?"

Wordlessly, Kurt did so.

Also wordlessly, Blaine dressed.

"So, Kurt, I'm going to get us as far away from here as possible. These are fast horses and I'm going to ride hard. When we've put enough distance between ourselves and Villalu we can take a break, but until then why don't you go ahead and get some sleep."

Kurt simply nodded, and settled back into the plush velvet seat.

Blaine climbed to the perch at the front of the carriage and grabbed the reins.

This was it.

He was leaving.

And Kurt was coming with him.

Blaine gave the reins a firm pull, and they sped off into the night.


	3. Chapter 3

Blaine rode as hard as he dared all through the night and into the morning. He didn't want to wreck the horses, but he didn't want to get caught either. There was no way to be sure how long it would be until the palace guard was after them, and he wasn't sure how hard Dronyen was planning to pursue them. On the one hand, Dronyen went through quite a lot of Sidhe slaves. He used and abused them until they were either too permanently injured for him to enjoy anymore, or until one day they were simply, discreetly gone.

It wasn't illegal to kill one's property. But it was considered quite crass to draw attention to it.

On the other hand, Blaine had seen how Dronyen looked at Kurt. And he knew that Dronyen had seen something of what Blaine saw in him too. Dronyen didn't just see a pleasing way to pass the time, he saw the fierceness in Kurt's eyes. The pride. The strength. The resolute refusal to be broken.

Dronyen was a true sadist. This Blaine knew.

Many aristocratic men would be shocked to hear what they did to their Sidhe described as rape. Their slaves were simply there for their pleasure, and  _consent_ was an utterly alien concept. Of course it was cruel, but most of these men were genuinely ignorant of their own cruelty. Some had probably even convinced themselves that their victims liked the attention.

But Dronyen? Dronyen would probably  _love_  to think of it as rape. It would probably thrill him to the core.

He liked  _hurting_  his slaves. He liked breaking them.

And the extent of Kurt's bruises that first night? That suggested a particular level of enthusiastic brutality, even for Dronyen.

So it was possible that Dronyen might pursue them pretty hard. It was possible that he might realize just how rare and precious Kurt was, even if it was for the most horribly wrong reasons imaginable.

And then there was Blaine. Dronyen would most likely be  _shaking_  with rage at the betrayal and the audacity. A peasant on a scholarship, given a plum position at court, positioned to become Dronyen's next right-hand man. And now this.

Dronyen would probably want to set an example. If Dronyen or any of his men ever found them, they would kill Blaine. Pure and simple.

Or not so pure and simple. In all likelihood, Dronyen would prefer to kill him dirty and complicated.

Dronyen would publicly torture him, and it wouldn't surprise Blaine if it lasted weeks. Blaine had known this from the very start, from the instant he had decided to free Kurt.

And Blaine prayed for one thing and one thing only: that they wouldn't be discovered before the verbena had left Kurt's blood. Because even if they caught and killed Blaine, even if they broke his mind, body and soul into a million jagged pieces, they wouldn't be able to touch Kurt at full power. They wouldn't even get close to him.

Blaine rode until he could barely keep his eyes open, until his stiff muscles were screaming with pain. He followed the course he had set, bringing them along what Blaine hoped would be the least likely route to attract Dronyen's men.

When he finally felt that they had gone far enough, when he finally believed that neither he nor the horses could take any more, he led them off the dirt road they had been following for the last few hours and back into the woods. He found a suitable clearing and eased himself from his perch, his knees buckling as soon as his legs touched the ground.

* * *

He allowed himself to simply lie like that. He was pretty sure he even dozed a bit. Sounds and images seemed to flash across the periphery of his consciousness and he couldn't feel his body at all, which at this point was definitely a blessing.

After a slightly indeterminate period of time (An hour? Two? Five?) he roused himself, his head spinning with everything he needed to do.

He was shocked at the sight that greeted him.

It was full daylight, and the horses were grazing on grass and drinking from a stream at the edge of the clearing that Blaine hadn't even noticed at first. The tent he had packed was pitched perfectly between two trees, and that warm, woody smell  _hadn't_  just been part of an oddly vivid dream, because Kurt had started a crackling fire. The elf was leaning over a cauldron that was bubbling above it, and an incredibly appetizing smell mingled with the woodsmoke.

And – was that? – Yes. Blaine was wrapped in a blanket.

He sat up slowly, testing his ability to move. He groaned when he attempted a stretch, and Kurt turned around to look at him.

There was a softness in his eyes that Blaine hadn't seen there before. It made his breath catch and his head spin.

"Hi," Blaine managed, grinning wide.

"Hi." Kurt didn't return his smile, but the softness remained. Blaine had broken through, just a little bit.

"You – you didn't have to do all this. I was going to-"

"Keel over and die? Yes you were. I can't believe you pushed the horses that hard. They were barely in better shape than you. Poor things."

Blaine sighed. "I had to get us as far away as possible."

"I understand that. But Blaine, can we please stay here at least until tomorrow? The horses need to rest. You need to rest. You're no good to me if you can't even stand up on your own."

Blaine tried to mute his excitement, reel in his smile. Kurt still looked wary and wound tight and the trust was most definitely not there, but still, he had said...

"So, you're planning on staying with me then?"

Kurt quickly returned his attention to the cauldron. "Yes, for now, if your offer still stands. You're right about the verbena. As weak as I am right now, I wouldn't last a week out here on my own. I would get caught and sold again, and the next one might be even worse than Dronyen."

Blaine felt his features darken with hatred. "I don't think that's possible," he replied.

Kurt was silent for a moment.

"Well, even so. I think I'm quite done with being treated like the property of human men."

Blaine couldn't stop the tears, so he didn't bother to try. "I'm sorry, Kurt," he said brokenly.

Kurt turned to look at him. He gave a slight nod, and turned back to the cauldron.

* * *

Kurt had made an incredible stew from dried herbs that Blaine had packed, as well as several varieties of vegetables and roots that he had found in the forest while Blaine had slumbered.

It was delicious, but...

"Why didn't you use any of the dried meat or fish I packed, Kurt? There's plenty."

Kurt looked down into his bowl for a moment, seeming almost afraid, as if he expected to be be slapped.

"No...I didn't mean...it's perfect the way it is. I just wanted to make sure that you realize you can use whatever you need. Help yourself. All of this is as much yours as mine."

Kurt glanced at him uncertainly. "Well. Thank you, Blaine, but I prefer not to eat animal flesh."

Blaine looked at him with surprise. "Oh. But you always..."

"I always ate what I had to in order to stay alive. I've done many unpleasant things in order to stay alive. But my body doesn't digest it well, and to be honest, it pains my heart to eat it. So if it's perfectly all right with you, I think I won't."

"Of course it's all right. I just...I didn't know. I hope I brought enough other things."

Kurt smiled. "I'm very good at finding plants, and there are many things that I can eat that you cannot, so just keep the meat for yourself and we should be fine."

"What kinds of things do you usually eat?" Blaine asked with interest. "When you were – before you were –"

"Enslaved?"

"Yes."

Kurt shrugged. "Leaves, mostly, and flowers. Roots and grasses, fruits on occasion. For example, this-" Kurt plucked a leathery-looking leaf from the shrub beside him - "would suit me just fine." He popped the leaf in his mouth and ate it with relish.

Blaine smiled. "What is your favorite food?"

"Honeysuckle."

Blaine almost clapped his hands with delight. "I knew it! My Grandmother – she  _told_  me the Sidhe love honeysuckle. We used to leave baskets of it on the back steps so they would bless our home."

Kurt looked intrigued. " _Where_  exactly are you from?"

"N'auri. It's a small region, on the border of Outer Villalu, near the Eastern Sea."

Kurt nodded. "I've heard of it. There are some nomadic feririars in that area. Not much of a slave trade, as I understand it."

"No. I didn't even know about the slave trade until I was twelve years old. The first Sidhe I ever saw was free."

Kurt smiled at this. Blaine's heart jumped.

"He was beautiful..."

Blaine tried to stop himself. He did. He truly did. But he couldn't.

"...like you."

It was as if iron gates crashed down behind Kurt's eyes, locking him up tight. The softness was gone. That one perfect smile that Blaine had finally managed to coax from him had disappeared without a trace. Kurt wrapped his arms around his torso defensively and clenched his jaw. He turned his head away from Blaine.

Blaine swallowed. "I'm sorry, Kurt, I shouldn't have-"

"What do you want from me, Blaine? Please tell me the truth."

"I just want to help-"

"Stop." Kurt turned back to Blaine, eyes fierce and blazing. " I don't want to hear about how you want to help me, and how you want to be a good person, and how this is some twisted path to redemption for you. I want you to tell me  _why_  you are doing this, and I want you to tell me right now."

Blaine stared into that flashing blue, and felt the demand down to his very core. He felt Kurt literally siphoning the truth out of him with his eyes.

"Because I'm in love with you."

Kurt's eyes widened with horror. "Oh, Gods," he managed to whimper.

"I'm sorry! I just...it's true, Kurt. From the first moment I saw you, I..."

"It isn't true."

"Yes it is! Kurt, I-"

"You  _don't_  love me, Blaine," he spat, curling his arms around himself more tightly. "You fetishize me. You love the  _idea_  of loving me. You barely even know me. You see me as some frail, delicate creature for you to rescue and then, what? I'm supposed to give myself to you? And it's  _different_  than Dronyen paying for me and keeping me like a possession because you've managed to romanticize it? To cast yourself as the noble hero in all this?"

"Kurt, No! That's not-"

"Fine," Kurt said, his voice becoming dangerously honeyed, his eyes sparking with malice. "Because I'm  _not_  a frail and delicate creature, Blaine. Like I said before, I do what I have to in order to survive. And this is nothing new. I understand. You're doing something for me, so I should give you something in return."

He crawled over to Blaine, began climbing into his lap. Blaine was frozen with shock.

"So, you're the romantic sort. What will it be? Kisses and sweet nothings beneath the moonlight?  _Love_ making, slow and gentle and face to face?" Kurt purred.

He leaned in and kissed Blaine on the lips. And the action sent a jolt through Blaine that slammed him back into his body, into the present, into what it was that was actually happening.

Blaine leapt to his feet, sending Kurt tumbling. He touched his fingers to his lips, overwhelmed by the confusion swirling in his gut.

Kurt's lips had felt so wonderful...but the whole situation had felt so, so wrong.

"No," Blaine whispered shakily, looking down at Kurt. "I don't want  _this,_  Kurt. I don't."

Kurt stared up at him, a storm of intense emotion exploding behind his eyes.

"Then...then  _what_  do you  _want_  from me?" Kurt wailed loudly, and he collapsed into tears.

The intensity of his breakdown seemed to surpass even those gut-wrenching sobs Blaine remembered from Kurt's first night at Dronyen's castle. Kurt's face fell into his hands and his elbows fell onto his knees. Blaine crouched back down and very, very gingerly touched Kurt's shoulder. When Kurt flinched, he withdrew his hand quickly.

So Blaine just sat down beside him and waited.

Kurt cried for a long, long time. There was rage in it, and there was pain in it too, but mostly there was deep fear.

Blaine wanted to hold him so,  _so_  badly.

When the tears finally began to subside, Kurt looked at Blaine with watery eyes, the question still hanging between them.

"I don't know what to say, Kurt," Blaine sighed. "Maybe what I'm feeling isn't true, I don't know, but I believe it is. And what I  _want_  is for you to be free and happy, even if I have to die to make it happen. And what I  _don't_  want is for you to kiss me, or...or touch me in any way, unless it's what  _you_  want to do. Not because you think you owe me or I expect it, but because you want it. And if you never want it...that's all right too."

Kurt tucked his knees to his chin, looking miserable. "I don't think I can believe you," he said.

Blaine shrugged. "Maybe I haven't earned it yet. I hope I do eventually." He smiled at Kurt. It was a careful smile; Blaine was trying very hard to convey warmth without expectation, and he wasn't sure if he was succeeding.

To his surprise, Kurt actually smiled back. It washed over Blaine like a warm bath.

"I hope so too," Kurt replied softly.

* * *

They slept on opposite sides of the tent.

Blaine slept fitfully, and found himself gazing at Kurt between patches of slumber. It was hard to see him in the darkness of the tent, but Blaine could make out the outline of his body, the rise and fall of his chest. He could hear the near-musical soft breathing, and the comfort it gave him was overwhelming.

Blaine didn't realize that he wasn't the only one with open eyes in the tent that night.

He didn't see the elf sneaking gazes of his own when Blaine's breathing evened into sleep. He didn't see the other man tracing the curve of his body, from shoulder to hip, with his eyes.

He didn't see Kurt falling asleep with a smile on his lips when he had finally stared so long that he could no longer keep his eyes open.

And he did not realize that, for the first time in many, many years, Kurt slept without fear.


	4. Chapter 4

Over the next several days, they kept to back roads and wooded paths. Eventually they would have to venture into a more populated area to gather supplies, but both Blaine and Kurt were hoping to put that off for as long as possible.

Kurt still didn't know quite what to think about this strange man who had sacrificed everything to help him.

He, in equal parts, wanted to trust Blaine and wanted to figure out what his angle was. Was Blaine just planning to sell Kurt to someone else? If so, why the good-natured ruse, when all he would have to do was bind him in iron and throw him in the back of the carriage? Was he simply toying with him? What exactly was he actually getting out of all this?

One thing was for certain. Blaine was either unimaginably kind or unimaginably cruel.

Kurt had a very strong sense that Blaine was not a cruel man, and he wasn't sure if that growing conviction was more comforting than it was terrifying. If Blaine were actually in love with Kurt like he claimed...

Kurt had heard that not all human men looked down on the Sidhe. He had just never experienced it personally, and it was more than a little unnerving.

Blaine had been taught by his elder to revere the Sidhe. Kurt had also heard about that; heard that things had not always been like this between the humans and the Sidhe in Villalu. And it couldn't have been that long ago, either, if Blaine's second-elder had spoken of it. But human lives were so short, and they treated the stretch of a single generation like an eternity.

Kurt, not for the first time, wished that he'd made the effort to learn more about human society before his Rite. If he had known more, he wouldn't have let himself fall asleep in that clearing, completely at ease, as if nothing in the world could touch him.

It had been his first journey into Villalu. He hadn't made it back for his wedding the following day.

* * *

They had been journeying for about a week when Blaine asked him about it. They were riding along at a reasonably mellow pace, the trees that lined the dirt road they traveled dappling the sunlight. It was a warm and pleasant day, they had recently taken food and drink, and they had been journeying in comfortable silence for the better part of an hour.

Kurt was driving; They had both agreed that it would look odd if Blaine were holding the reins instead of this "slave," should another human cross their path. Blaine had joined Kurt on the perch, however, their arms occasionally brushing lightly together as Kurt handled the reins.

"So...Kurt, I- I mean, you don't have to answer me if you would rather not talk about it, but I was, um, wondering...I mean..."

Kurt smiled. He had found himself smiling more in the past week than he probably had in the last five years. But Blaine was really quite cute when he got nervous and flustered.

"It's all right, Blaine, you can ask me. If I don't want to answer, I won't."

Blaine smiled back. "Well, I was just wondering when, and maybe how you got...you know, caught? You really don't have to answer, though, Kurt."

Kurt took a moment to consider the request. He wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about it. Then again, his third elder had always told him that the gods created language to heal the soul. Kurt hadn't spoken to anyone about his experience. His owners obviously hadn't cared to hear it, and what few other Sidhe he had been allowed to converse with from time to time didn't want to talk about the horror that was their capture and enslavement. They wanted to talk about their old lives, their true lives. They wanted to speak in their native tongue with another being just to remind themselves that it hadn't been a dream, that life hadn't always been about desperation and raw survival.

He felt like he was going to cry again. He wondered why it was that he and Blaine seemed to spend so much time making each other smile and cry.

"Well," Kurt began softly, his voice a bit shaky.

"Kurt, you don't ha-"

"Blaine, hush. This isn't like asking me about a trip to the market. It's going to make me upset. Are you going to be able to withstand that?"

Blaine swallowed nervously, but nodded when Kurt looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

"All right then. It was about five years ago, I believe, I'm not entirely sure. I try to pay attention to the seasons and the moon, but I was in a dungeon for, I believe, a few months at one point, which threw off my orientation a bit."

"F-five  _years?_  A dungeon...oh, Kurt..."

"I was on a traditional trek called the Nuptial Rite. All young Sidhe must complete the Rite on the day before they are married. We journey to one of several sacred sites, and we are meant to...hmmm...we call it soul-walking? A bit like meditation, I suppose, but with the aid of a mild hallucinogen. The point is to take stock of oneself, of one's betrothed. The soul-walker takes the journey alone, speaks to no one, and then returns to officially declare the intent to marry or the intent to withdraw from the union. It's usually more of a formality than anything else, but I..."

"So they trapped you while you were med - uh, soul-walking?"

Kurt sighed. "No. The site is on protected ground. But the journey from my village to the site took me through Western Villalu, just for a few miles. And I...I was incredibly stupid. I was incredibly young and incredibly stupid, Blaine, and that is how I got caught."

"Kurt, it wasn't your fault. You can't think-"

"No, it wasn't my fault. But it could have been avoided. I actually stopped and took a nap on Villalu soil!" Kurt laughed harshly. "I had just finished the Rite, and I was on my way home, and I was ready to get married, and everything just felt so perfect. It was a beautiful day, much like this one, in fact, and I stopped to rest and eat some sweet grasses. I fell asleep, and when I woke up there were men throwing iron chains across me."

Blaine just looked at him with big, brimming hazel eyes.

Those eyes had an effect on Kurt that he didn't understand.

Kurt wondered if he should share this next part. Perhaps it was too intimate, perhaps simply too much. But he had never said it out loud, and he felt like maybe he finally just  _had_  to.

"That first night..." Kurt took a deep, shaking breath, his eyes fixed hard on the road ahead and not on Blaine.

"I...I had never been with a man before. My wedding night was going to be my first time. But they just...they just passed me around. They...gods, it was so terrifying."

Kurt hated that he had started crying again. He hated that Blaine was probably crying too. He hated that the story made him sound like such a weak, pathetic victim.

Kurt felt Blaine gently tug the reins from Kurt's hands. Blaine pulled them to a stop, and turned to him.

"Kurt, may I hug you?"

The sweetness and formality of the request just made Kurt cry harder, but he found himself nodding, because yes, he hadn't been hugged in five long years.

Blaine gently pulled Kurt to him, and wrapped his arms tenderly around him. Kurt rested his head in the crook of Blaine's neck and stained his tunic with a flood of tears. Blaine stroked his back gently, just holding him.

They stayed like that for a long time.

Finally, Blaine spoke. It was a murmur, so soft that Kurt wouldn't have been able to hear it if he hadn't been so close.

"How were they never able to break you?"

Kurt sniffled slightly. "They did."

"No, Kurt, they didn't. Your eyes...they aren't like the others. Your eyes look free. In five years, you never let anyone take that from you. I can't even...you're just amazing."

"I...I feel pretty broken, Blaine." Kurt's voice was very small. Blaine hugged him tighter.

"Of course you do. But you're not. You're strong and fierce and alive and  _whole._  I can see it even if you don't, Kurt. That's what made me fall in love with you."

Kurt tensed slightly, and Blaine loosened his grip, but Kurt didn't push him away. After a moment he relaxed back into the embrace.

"It wasn't that I thought you were frail and weak," Blaine continued, "it was that I  _knew_  you were incredible and powerful and full of fire. No matter what they did to you, Kurt, and no matter what they made you think you were  _choosing_  to do to stay alive, they never really touched you. I doubt that they even got close."

Kurt shuddered. "Dronyen got pretty close," he whispered. "If you hadn't...I don't know how much more I had left in me, Blaine. I think he truly wanted to destroy me."

"He did," Blaine agreed painfully. "But he won't."

Kurt took a deep breath against the steady thrum of Blaine's heartbeat.

"I really hope this is all real, Blaine. I hope you aren't just a different kind of sadist than Dronyen is. Because I'm going to tell you something right now, and it's going to leave me completely defenseless."

Blaine inhaled sharply, but didn't speak. What could he possibly say?

"I...I think I trust you. In fact, I know I trust you. And if you betray me now, it  _will_  break me. Utterly and completely."

Kurt lifted his head from Blaine's chest and looked him in the eye.

"You have the power to break me, Blaine," he repeated. "And that...that's all I wanted to say."

Kurt looked away, overwhelmed by the intensity in Blaine's eyes. He felt Blaine move his hand to softly cup Kurt's cheek.

"I promise that I won't betray you, Kurt," he said simply.

Kurt closed his eyes, melting into Blaine's touch. He felt loved and safe in a way that had only lived in ghostlike memories, gathering cobwebs in his heart, for far too long.

"Thank you," Kurt breathed. "For...just...thank you."

Blaine smiled as Kurt lay his head back down in the crook of his neck.

"Thank you for trusting me," he replied.

* * *

That afternoon, they found themselves riding through the first unavoidable village of their journey. They stopped to feed and water both the horses and themselves, and to replenish what supplies had started to dwindle. It was a small village, and not a wealthy one, which meant that all eyes were on Kurt. Blaine had to treat him like a slave, and Kurt had to treat Blaine like his master. Anything out of the ordinary might become a story worth telling, and that was simply not an option.

It was incredibly odd, especially given the sweetness of their conversation earlier that day.

Blaine barked out orders, telling Kurt what to fetch for him and making Kurt carry heavy bundles completely on his own when Blaine could easily have helped him.

Blaine did his best to apologize with his eyes whenever a chance presented itself. Each time, Kurt replied with a silent look of sympathy and understanding, and Blaine knew it was going to be okay between them.

They were sitting on a wide bench near a cluster of shops, enjoying the sun, when the man approached them. Kurt was eating an apple and Blaine was eating a chunk of cheese with a piece of bread.

The man sidled up to them, smooth and smiling, his eyes hard as rock.

"Hello, sir, Grade's the name. I don't believe I've had the pleasure of making your acquaintance before."

Blaine glanced up with a practiced look of irritable boredom. "Jor," he said. "Just passing through. On our way to B'aufe."

"Pleasure to meet you, Jor. Say, that's a mighty pretty elf you got there. May I?"

Grade's hands were poised to touch Kurt.

"Rather you didn't," Blaine said, trying to keep his voice as even as possible. "Not for sale."

"Well, now, I understand that. Creature like this you want to hold on to for awhile. But some pals and I might be able to rustle up a bit of coinage if you're of a mind to rent. You staying in town tonight?"

"No," Blaine said firmly. A little too firmly. "Got to get back on the road. Nice to meet you, though, Grade." Blaine got to his feet and motioned Kurt to follow him.

Grade closed his hand around Kurt's wrist. Blaine spun around.

"What can I give you for fifteen minutes with it, Jor? Have a heart. We don't get much in the way of quality sprite flesh around here."

Blaine grabbed Grade by the lapels and slammed him against the bench.

"I'm sorry, Grade, but do I look like a man who needs your money?" he hissed. "Do I look like a man who likes to share his toys?"

He shoved Grade onto the bench, hard.

"Let's go," Blaine muttered to Kurt. "We need to get the hell out of here  _now."_

"Oh, it's like that, is it?" Grade called after them. "You're just a couple of boys up from Khryslee, aren't you? Well, I don't want your filthy wild elf anyway, you bloody abomination!"

Kurt and Blaine made it back to the carriage in record time. Kurt took the reins and led them east out of the village. Once out of view, they followed a wide circle until they were westbound once again.

They didn't speak for a good long while.

Finally, Blaine said "I'm sorry, Kurt."

"You say that quite a lot, you know."

"Well, I feel like I should."

"Blaine, you have nothing to apologize for. I'm just glad we've left that horrible little place. Small villages are the absolute worst. You do realize that it's considered poor manners not to rent out your slave for a fair price, though."

"Fine. Then I have poor manners. At least I have a soul."

"That you most certainly do." Kurt smiled, trying to melt some of the tension that Blaine was clearly still carrying from the confrontation.

Blaine smiled back, and did seem to relax a little bit.

"Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know what he was talking about? Khryslee?"

Kurt was quiet for a moment.

"Yes," he finally said.

Blaine waited for Kurt to continue. When he didn't, Blaine pressed.

"What is it?"

"It's a place."

"Well, yes, I did kind of gather that. What did he mean? What kind of place is it? I don't think I've ever heard of it before."

Kurt sighed, and pulled the carriage over.

"Get one of your maps."

Blaine did, and Kurt leaned in.

"See...there?" He traced what looked like a narrow strip just past the entrance to the Faerie Lands.

"It's near the Villalu border, really. You have to go through..." (he spoke the name, and it was utterly unpronounceable to Blaine) "...just for a bit, and then there you are. They are highly protected lands. Of those who desire to live there, only some are welcomed in. But it's the only place I know of where..."

"Where...?"

"Where...unconventional pairings are accepted."

Blaine's heart began to pound in his chest. Could Kurt be telling him...did he mean...?

"Yes," Kurt replied to the question in Blaine's eyes, "Humans and Sidhe live there as lifemates, but others do too. Human women who love one another and don't want to live as the property of men, human men who want to be with one another instead of taking a slave and marrying a woman they don't desire, Sidhe couples in unblessed pairings..." Kurt shrugged. "It's supposed to be a beautiful place," he finished.

"It sounds beautiful," Blaine breathed.

Kurt laughed. "I meant the  _landscape._  The flora and fauna. It's meant to be quite lush. But it's very rare for anyone to see it unless they are planning to...relocate there. Permanently."

"Would...do they let people in on their own?"

Kurt raised his eyebrows in question.

"I just meant...well, once we get you home, I'm going to need to figure out a plan for myself. I can't stay in Villalu, and I have a feeling I wouldn't be particularly welcome in faerie country..."

"That feeling would be correct," Kurt confirmed.

"So I wonder if...well, maybe I could go to Khryslee. I think I could stand to live in a place like that."

Kurt studied him. Blaine had gotten fairly proficient at reading Kurt's expressions in such a small space of time, but this was not one of them. This look was an utter mystery.

"I don't know, Blaine, but I think you should try," he said finally, picking the reins back up and continuing them on their way.

* * *

In the village of G'auri, a royal messenger delivered a scroll to the steward. The steward hung it in the window of the general supply store, where all important notices were put on display.

On his way home from the tavern, still feeling frustrated and irritable from an incident earlier that day, a man named Grade stopped to study the scroll.

It seemed that one of Prince Dronyen's courtiers had run off with quite a lot of palace gold, as well as one particularly high-quality Sidhe slave. The palace was offering a reward for any information that may lead to this man's capture.

Grade read the physical description of the criminal at large.

He smiled to himself.


	5. Chapter 5

They were sitting by the fire of their campsite and watching the sunset fade into blue. Kurt was sitting on the grass, still wet from an earlier rain, and Blaine was sitting on a rolled-up blanket, with another blanket around his shoulders, because Kurt had insisted. Blaine had been feeling a bit under the weather, and Kurt was doing his best to tend to him with warm blankets and hot broth and soothing touches to his cheeks and forehead.

Blaine certainly wasn't complaining.

They had been traveling for almost two weeks, and Blaine finally had to know. Avoiding the question had allowed him to ignore the inevitable, which he was enjoying immensely, but it was something he should probably find out.

"Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"How long...when will the verbena be flushed from your system?"

Kurt fiddled with a blade of grass.

"I don't really know. I've never been given the opportunity to find out. But I've heard it can take a little while."

"Will you know when it happens? Will you be able to tell?"

Kurt smiled slightly, still staring at the blade of grass between his fingers. "Blaine, if you had shackles on your wrists and ankles for five years and then one day someone took them off, would you be able to tell?"

"Oh. It's like that?"

"It's like that."

"Do you remember what it feels like?"

"I remember that it feels  _more._  I remember that it feels less isolated, more like I'm a part of everything around me."

"That sounds incredible."

Kurt sighed, and leaned back on his elbows. "It is."

"When it happens, Kurt, you won't need me anymore. You should probably just..."

"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it, shall we?"

Kurt lay back on the grass, knees bent and feet flat on the earth, staring into the fading day. He tucked his hands behind his head. Blaine started to lay back as well, but Kurt glared at him.

"Don't, Blaine. You're already getting sick, and your frail human constitution won't be helped by lying on the cold, damp ground. In fact, you should probably move closer to the fire."

Blaine smiled. He loved how bossily nurturing Kurt had become. He was clearly starting to care about Blaine, though Blaine still didn't know what to make of it.

"Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something...sort of personal?"

"Have you ever asked me anything else?"

Blaine smiled again.

"Well, before...when you said you were going to get married, it kind of sounded like...well, like the person you were marrying was a man."

Now it was Kurt's turn to smile.

"More like a boy, really, we were so young. But yes. His name was...is...well, his pet name is Firae."

Blaine was silent for a moment, allowing Kurt's words to sink in.

"I...I didn't know that Sidhe did that. Do women marry each other too?"

"Yes, if that's their preference. And men and women too, of course. We don't have the same sort of taboos that you people do. I think that may be your biggest problem, actually."

Blaine laughed bitterly. "Oh, I don't know, Kurt. We have so many problems to choose from."

"Well, yes, but when men don't control women, and love isn't about dominance, and the powerless aren't used to satisfy the repressed cravings of the powerful...well, I think that takes care of a lot of problems right there."

Blaine mulled this over. It seemed too simple to make as much sense as it did.

"The Sidhe aren't perfect, Blaine, and some of our social problems can be almost as disturbing as yours. But no one marries because they need to in order to survive, or in order to be taken care of. It is a choice, and it isn't a choice that everybody makes."

"But it's a choice that you made."

Kurt was silent for a moment.

"Yes," he said, though it didn't sound like a pure yes.

"But...?" Blaine ventured.

"Well...no, we loved each other very much. There was just a bit of pressure for us to marry young. Maybe more than a bit, in fact."

"How come?"

Kurt sighed.

"It's...Sidhe culture is just different, Blaine."

"Do...do you still love him? Firae?"

Kurt looked up at him. "I don't know. It's been years. I don't even know if he's the same.  _I'm_  certainly not the same. But he was a dear friend, and we grew up together. I know I still care for him, I just don't...I suppose I don't know what that really means anymore."

Blaine wanted to ask  _is he handsome? Did he deserve you? Did he make your body shiver when he kissed you? Could you ever love me the way you loved him? Am I less of a man if I hate him a little bit, even if he made you happy?_

Instead, Blaine said "I hope you get to see him again." It was a true statement, but just barely.

"Me too," Kurt said longingly, and Blaine looked away and felt like he was being stabbed.

* * *

Over the next few days, Blaine's health steadily got worse. When Kurt crept closer to Blaine in the tent one night – as he had found himself doing from time to time – he was startled to hear the loud, shallow wheezing coming from Blaine's throat. He pressed his ear to Blaine's chest and his lungs sounded thick. He touched Blaine's forehead and it felt like fire.

Kurt swallowed hard. Blaine was  _not_  well.

The next day Blaine almost fell off the perch while Kurt was driving, and Kurt nearly upended the carriage when he lunged to catch him. Blaine was sweating, and his eyes were glazed, and he was starting to break out in boils. Kurt wrapped him in blankets and carried him to the carriage and folded him onto the seat.

"Kurt? What...where..."

"Just sleep, Blaine," Kurt soothed.

Blaine sighed, and burrowed into the blankets.

"I love you," he murmured, already half asleep.

"I know," Kurt whispered, allowing his hand to linger on Blaine's cheek a little longer than necessary.

* * *

When Blaine awoke, Kurt was easing him out of the carriage, looking ready to pick him up again.

"I can walk," Blaine grumbled irritably. "I'm not a baby."

He squinted at the street lamps through the drizzle of rain around him when he climbed down, utterly confused.

"Where are we?"

"We are in V'auda. And we are at an inn. We are going to sleep here tonight."

"Kurt, no. It's too..."

"Blaine, yes. I don't care if it's risky, you aren't well. You need a hot bath and some strong broth and a warm, dry place to sleep. I don't want to hear another word about it."

Blaine groaned, but allowed Kurt to lead him toward the inn. As they approached the door, Kurt hung back deferentially, and cast his eyes to the floor in the manner of a slave.

They walked into a warm and softly lit dining area, where a few men were nursing mugs. One particularly burly man was sitting in front of a pegboard full of keys, his feet up on the table in front of him.

"Pardon me," Blaine rasped, trying to keep his voice steady, "but we...uh,  _I..._ would like a room, please."

The man glanced up at them, his eyes settling on Kurt

Blaine was barely holding himself together, but he wanted to gauge the man's eyes out just to eliminate the expression he saw in them. Was this going to happen  _every_  time? Was there a decent, moral human man left in all of Villalu?

"Hmmm," said the man lazily, taking in Kurt's beauty and Blaine's desperation. "Thing is, son, I'm not sure we  _have_  any rooms open just now."

"But your sign said you had vacancies!"

" _Did_  it, now? Hmm. Must have forgotten to change that."

Blaine shook his head. He really didn't have the energy to deal with this right now.

"Let's go," he muttered, turning to leave.

"Well, now, wait a minute," the man said, enjoying the game. "I think I might have  _one_  small room in the back. But it's going to cost you a bit of time with your elf. That's fair, right? See? I'm not a bad sort."

"No," Blaine answered flatly, pulling Kurt toward the door.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered, pulling his arm back slightly. "Stop."

Blaine stopped. He was barely able to walk, let alone stand up, and his chest was heaving with the effort of moving a few paces. Sweat was running down his face, and his lips were distorted with sores.

"Blaine. Just...take the room. We need the room."

Blaine stared at Kurt.

"You can't be serious."

"One last time isn't going to break me, Blaine. Please just let me do this. I'll be...I'll be fine."

"No."

"Blaine,  _please._  I'm not going to watch you die."

_"No."_

Kurt sighed, and touched Blaine's arm lightly with his free hand. He hated to use this angle, but...

"Blaine, I need you. If anything happens to you, there won't be anyone to protect me. If I have to do this again, I'd rather it be for one night than...I can't be a slave again, Blaine. I  _can't."_

Blaine let go of Kurt and strode to the innkeeper as fast as his straining lungs would allow him.

"I'll pay double the rate."

"I believe I already named my price."

"Triple."

"Son, what  _is_  it with you? You sweet on your slave or something? I'm offering you-"

"JAREN!"

The innkeeper swiveled around just in time to be smacked upside the head by an older woman with wiry gray hair and eyes like steel. He flinched.

"What in hell's name do you think you're  _doing?"_ She stared at Kurt with disgust. "You want a slave, you get up off your ass and work for a change, and you  _buy_  yourself a damn slave. If you give away one more room for free, just because you can't stop thinking with your cock for five minutes..."

"Ma! Come on! I wasn't really going to..."

"Get your ass in the back!" She spat. "Do something useful for a change!" She gave him another solid smack to the back of his head, causing him to yelp and scurry away.

"Now," she said, fixing Blaine with a shrewd eye. "I believe I heard you say something about paying triple our usual rate."

Blaine collapsed onto the floor.

Kurt ran to him, kneeling down to feel his pulse. It was steady. Shakily, Kurt rose to his feet.

"Ma'am," he said, staring humbly at the floor. "I apologize for addressing you directly, but my master is very, very ill and I need to tend to him. I assure you that he will be happy to pay triple your usual rate, and I would like to request a hot bath and some supplies so that I may attend him, which he will of course pay for as well."

The woman took a split-second to glower at Kurt before addressing the semi-conscious heap on the floor.

"Tell your elf to make a list of the supplies you need, and I'll send up a girl. That is, if it can write."

 _Yes it can, you miserable wench,_  Kurt thought.

"That won't be a problem. Thank you," is what he said.

"We have a suite with a private bath," she said, continuing to pretend she was addressing Blaine instead of Kurt. "There's even a pump installed, feeds the bath from an underground hot spring. Isn't cheap, though. And at triple rate..."

"He'll take it," Kurt said, working very hard to sound calm.

"Very well. Follow me."

Kurt scooped Blaine up and followed the woman. Blaine didn't complain about being carried this time, but he did whimper slightly.

His pulse had started to fade.

When they had been shown to their room, Kurt put Blaine down on the bed and quickly drew up a list of supplies that they would need. He handed it to the older innkeeper, and she snatched it away, refusing to look at Kurt, and left without a word.

Kurt started the bath and then went down to the stables to fetch some particular herbs from the carriage.

When he returned, the supplies he had requested had been placed in a neat pile on top of the dresser, and a young girl was in the process of building a fire. She only turned to look at Kurt briefly before finishing her task.

When the bath was ready, Kurt undressed Blaine carefully, trying not to let his eyes linger. It was completely inappropriate, given the situation, and Blaine had been nothing but respectful and a complete gentleman to Kurt...

He did let his eyes linger. But only a little.

When Kurt eased him into the bath, Blaine's eyes opened, and he gazed up at him adoringly. He didn't speak, but he continued to stare at Kurt as he bathed him, his fever-bright eyes full of wonder.

After his bath, Kurt dried Blaine off and slipped him into a soft linen dressing gown. He gently placed him on the bed.

Kurt was preparing the broth when he heard a crash behind him.

Blaine had collapsed on to the floor again.

And this time he had completely lost consciousness.

He wasn't asleep. He wasn't half-conscious. This wasn't temporary. His pulse was faint and he was barely breathing.

Kurt had exactly one option left, or Blaine was going to die.

Kurt felt himself shaking. If he did this...would Blaine know? What would he do? How would it change things?

It would change everything.

But if he didn't do it, Blaine was going to die.

Kurt sat down on the floor, and gathered Blaine in his arms.

He kissed his forehead.

Then Kurt closed his eyes, and let out a deep sigh. Pounds of tension fell from his shoulders, and his skin began to glow.

And every place where his skin touched Blaine's began to glow too. At first the glow was soft, like diffused sunlight, and then it began to pick up depth and richness. As it enveloped them, it deepened into amber and then shifted, finally settling on a vibrant leaf green.

The room smelled like a forest in springtime.

They were buried inside it, and it was buried inside them. The glow permeated Blaine's organs, gently nourishing them with pure, clear, concentrated vitality. It sunk into his skin, drawing out the poison and replacing it with roiling life. It chased the darkness away, and bathed every cell in light.

When he awoke the next morning, Kurt sleeping sweetly beside him, Blaine had never felt better in his life.


	6. Chapter 6

"I can't believe it, I really can't! It's just  _amazing,_  Kurt. I don't know how you did it!"

"I told you, I'm a very good caretaker."

"Yeah, but...I don't even know how it's possible. Last night I was at death's door, and now..."

"It was probably just a virus that ran its course."

"But I don't just feel better, I feel  _incredible!_ I feel like I could run for days on end!"

"I gathered that, since you haven't been able to sit still since breakfast."

"I just...I've never even  _heard_  of anything like this. I really thought I was going to die last night. I mean, I could barely breathe, and now..."

"Yes, I know. It's a miracle. The gods will be singing your tale across generations. I can't  _believe_  that cow actually charged us triple the rate. How many decent humans do you have in this country? Four?"

"Kurt, what is wrong with you?"

Blaine looked over at him from where he sat on the perch, bouncing excitedly while Kurt drove.

"Nothing!" It came out harsh, and Kurt flinched at his own tone.

"I mean, nothing is wrong," he said more softly. "I was just very worried about you last night. I suppose I'm still a little bit tense."

"But Kurt, I feel ama-"

"Amazing, I know. Just...I think you should just accept it, Blaine. Don't worry too much about why it is."

Blaine gave him a lopsided grin. "I do remember you taking care of me, though, Kurt. Well, parts of it, anyway. You...it was so sweet."

Kurt felt himself blush, his pale features utterly failing to hide it.

"Well, I wouldn't get very far on my own without you, would I? It wasn't an entirely selfless act."

"Yeah, but..." Blaine furrowed his brow. Suddenly his eyes widened, as if remembering something vividly, all at once.

"Wait a minute, Kurt! You-"

Kurt swallowed hard and glanced at him nervously.

"You were going to...with that innkeeper. Just - just so I could get the room! Kurt, I  _never_ want you to think you have to-"

Kurt slipped the reins into one hand, and used the other to gently touch Blaine on the knee. He stopped talking abruptly, and looked at Kurt.

"Blaine. Let's change the subject.  _Please."_

Blaine grinned. That sounded just fine to him. Because he was so happy he didn't think he could even concentrate on being upset with what that disgusting innkeeper had almost done to Kurt last night. Not when the sun was shining and his skin was tingling and every taste and smell and sight and sound seemed clearer and more perfect than ever before.

Especially Kurt. Blaine could barely keep himself from fixing Kurt with a permanent silly grin. It wasn't that Kurt had gotten more beautiful, it was that he could  _see_  how truly beautiful Kurt was for the first time. It was as if his eyes had been cleansed of dust and grime and haze and fog that he hadn't even known were there. He easily plucked out details that he had never noticed before, like the fine smattering of freckles across Kurt's nose that were only completely visible in full sunlight, and the rich varieties of brown in Kurt's hair, the rainbow of coppers and mahoganys and chestnuts and ambers, and the perfect jut of Kurt's collar bone against his beautifully sculpted chest...

...Well, maybe he  _had_  noticed that last part before. But that didn't make it any less beautiful.

And his eyes...Blaine was careful to only take small, measured glances into his eyes. They were too breathtaking to bear.

And the way Kurt  _smelled._  He smelled just like a forest in springtime. How had Blaine never noticed that before?

Blaine sighed happily. He could still feel the ghost of Kurt's touch on his knee.

Even the light drizzle that started that afternoon couldn't mar Blaine's spirits. He tilted his face up into the cool spray, and wondered how he had never realized what a blessing it was to feel gentle rain on his skin.

He laughed, just because he could.

"Well, I suppose that  _is_  changing the subject, in a way," said Kurt, arching an eyebrow and offering the faintest hint of a smile.

Because Blaine was healthy, and Blaine was whole, and Blaine was still too elated to suspect a thing.

* * *

That night, Blaine was roused from a very pleasant dream by what he at first incorrectly surmised was an even  _more_  pleasant dream.

"Blaine." Kurt was whispering his name and rubbing his upper arm.

"Mmmm, Kurt..." he murmered, pulling him close.

" _Blaine!"_ A sound smack to the chest. Oh. Definitely  _not_  that kind of dream.

Blaine's eyelids flew open. He opened his mouth to speak, but Kurt placed a finger against his lips and jerked his head in the direction of what were clearly men's voices.

Blaine sat up wordlessly, and moved to the edge of the tent. He grabbed his sword and handed Kurt his spare.

"You know how to use this?" He whispered. Kurt rolled his eyes.

" _Yes,_  Blaine," he muttered irritably when Blaine continued his questioning stare.

They crept out of the tent as quietly as possible, moving in a wide circle through the trees that surrounded their campsite. When they finally got close enough to hear what the men were saying, they crouched low and leaned in.

"I'd say it's  _definitely_  him. Makes sense, west through G'auri and V'auda, that's aimed right at Faerie country. Fit's Dronyen's theory."

Kurt and Blaine's gasps swallowed one another completely. They exchanged horrified looks.

"All right, better go let the others know. Let's close ranks, make this fast and clean."

"Blaine," Kurt whispered. "Run."

Blaine just stared at him, frozen to the spot.

"Hey, did you guys just hear somethi-"

"Blaine!  _Run!"_

Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand firmly and bolted into the forest. He dodged trees and roots with liquid grace, pulling Blaine to his feet with a bizarre level of strength whenever he stumbled. The shouts increased behind them, and Dronyen's men were hot on their trail, less sure-footed but utterly relentless.

Blaine's eyes shot to the sky when a flare was sent up, blooming red across the heavens and temporarily exposing them as if in daylight to the men behind them.

They ran through a small clearing, and then stumbled to a halt.

Because now the men weren't just behind them. Now the men were  _all around_  them.

Blaine's breath caught in his throat. He and Kurt released one another's hands, as if by silent communication, and stepped back into each other, backs touching and swords held aloft.

The light of the full moon exposed the gleeful expressions of the men that surrounded them. Dozens of men. Blaine recognized several. These were Dronyen's best. Hand-picked.

"Look at that! Isn't that  _adorable!"_

"Is it true love, boys?"

"Hell, His Maj is right. The pervert  _is_  taking that thing to Khryslee!"

"Give it up, Anderson. Even you aren't stupid enough to think you can actually get out of this."

"His Maj is very disappointed in you. In  _both_  of you. So come with us nice and civil, and he'll go easier on you. Marginally.  _Maybe._ "

Laughter all around.

Blaine felt deep, cold fear settling into his gut. What had he done? It would have been better if he'd just died at that inn. Then maybe Kurt would have gotten away. Maybe he would have done better on his own after all, hiding in trees and sleeping under the open sky. Maybe he would have been better off without Blaine from the very beginning.

This couldn't be happening.

But Blaine knew two things for certain. First, he wasn't going to live through this confrontation. He could let Dronyen's men kill him, but he wouldn't give Dronyen the pleasure of breaking Blaine himself.

And second, he was going to go down fighting. He was going to put everything he had into that minute, infinitesimal chance that Kurt might somehow get out of this, alive and free.

Because if Dronyen ever got his hands on Kurt again...

"Frankly, boys, I'm finding your strategy of standing there and making cute comments at us a little less than threatening," Blaine called out, his voice strong and clear and unwavering.

"Kurt," he whispered. "Over there, south by south-west. You can get out if you don't hesitate. As soon as they come for me, just let those feet _fly."_

"Blaine," Kurt whispered back, "I'm not going to..."

"Yes you are. They just want to kill me. They want to give you back to Dronyen so he can break you. If I have to die to keep that from happening, then I die. It's my last wish, Kurt. You can't deny me my last wish."

Kurt inhaled sharply. Blaine thought he heard the edge of a sob in that breath.

"So, how many of you boys have been bending over for Dronyen now that his slave is gone?" Bellowed Blaine. "Thought your gait seemed a little off, there, Smithson!"

The man he had singled out flew at him with a scream of rage, widening the gap Blaine had pointed out to Kurt.

"GO!" Blaine screamed.

They both took off like shots.

Smithson ran at Blaine with murder in his eyes.

"NO! Smithson! We're supposed to save him for His -"

Blaine stopped in his tracks and turned to Smithson, glaring hard and bright, laughing at his rage, making him boil. He had picked Smithson for a reason. His anger was his undoing, and his impulsive charge at Blaine had every other man distracted.

Blaine held his sword defensively, to block the first jab. Smithson was going to kill him, he was sure of it, but maybe he could at least get a few good licks in too.

Smithson flew at Blaine and raised his sword.

And then the world seemed to come apart at the seams.

* * *

It took Blaine a minute to realize that he was on the ground, and definitely not dead. But the ground was moving. It was trembling. Men were falling down all around him.

And then the screams began.

Blaine managed to roll to the side just as a cluster of thick vines exploded from the ground beside him. They were as tall as trees, and moving with clear intent. Blaine felt something hot and sticky dripping onto his face, and he looked up to see Smithson, held high in the air by one of the vines, his tortured features sharp and bright against the full moon and some other unearthly source of light, and that vine was literally squeezing the life out of him. Blaine could hear the sickly crunch of bones breaking, and he moved unsteadily to his feet to get out of the way before even more blood rained down.

Blaine was only vertical for a moment before the shaking ground claimed his balance once again.

But in that moment...

 _Oh,_ that moment.

Because in the middle of the clearing, glowing with a light that seemed to make the entire forest glow, was a being of such incredible beauty and power that it took Blaine's breath away.

 _He_  took Blaine's breath away.

He knew it was Kurt, but even with that knowledge it took him a moment to fully grasp what that meant.

He was Kurt, and there was nothing containing him. Nothing weakening him. His skin glowed with pulsing colors, amber-gold and leaf-green and sky-blue and blood-red and pure, blinding white. He stood upon the trembling ground like it was as still as stone, and his eyes were blazing with blue fire.

And those eyes were trained directly on Smithson.

Blaine had never seen such rage in Kurt's eyes. He had never seen such utter homicidal malice. Kurt wasn't just killing Smithson. He was _eviscerating_ him.

Just as Blaine lost his footing again, he heard the tortured scream and horrible ripping sound of Smithson being torn in half.

Blaine crawled away blindly, rolling and swerving to avoid the flailing vines that pursued the desperately fleeing men all around him.

" _Kurt!"_  He screamed raggedly as the ground burst open beside him again, and he felt himself sliding helplessly into the newly-formed cavern.

Just as Blaine was about to fall, screaming, into the earth with two other men, a vine caught him and wrapped itself around his waist securely.

And he wasn't afraid.

Because, even though he couldn't explain it, the vine  _was_  Kurt. He felt uncannily that he was being lifted in Kurt's arms, carried out of the path of danger, and Blaine couldn't help but stroke the vine affectionately as it gently placed him on a high, thick tree branch on the edge of the clearing, outside the fray.

And when he touched the vine he knew that his instinct was true. Because as he let his hands slide across the smooth flesh of the plant, Kurt looked up, and their eyes locked, and it was  _exactly_  as if he were stroking Kurt's arm, and through the blue fire Blaine saw nothing but pure affection.

He leaned his head against the rough bark of the tree as the vine gently slipped away, and watched the spectacle below with awe.

A few of the men had the good sense to run away, but not most. These were Dronyen's best men, hand-picked, and they had been trained to see nothing beyond The Mission. Not death nor dismemberment could deter them.

And Kurt seemed more than happy to dole out both.

Some of the men tried hacking at the vines, but it was like hacking at solid steel. Blaine saw one particularly delicate vine curl itself around the hilt of a fallen sword and begin spearing men through the hearts as effortlessly as a knife through butter.

Two men ran at Kurt from behind carrying iron chains. Blaine felt his heart catch, and a scream of warning hadn't even made it to his lips when the men dropped the chains with howls of pain.

With staggering rapidity, the chains glowed red-hot and then began to melt, filling a slight indentation in the earth with molten metal.

A single vine caught both men who had been carrying the chains, wrapped around them tightly, and thrust their faces into the liquid iron, holding them there.

And all this without Kurt even bothering to turn around.

Vines crushed the men's bodies into pulp, tore off their heads and limbs, littered the ground with flesh and blood and bone. It was horrifying to behold, but Blaine was barely even looking at the carnage.

He was looking at Kurt.

True, pure, unbridled Kurt.

When the work was finally done, when the only living soldiers had long since escaped and, presumably, gotten as far away as possible as fast as possible, Kurt calmly proceeded to the edge of the clearing. He leaned against the tree where Blaine was perched.

Blaine heard a faint roar, which quickly grew in volume. His eyes widened as a rush of water, the likes of which one would normally only see at the breaking of a dam, approached the clearing.

Kurt stood calmly and waited for it.

The water flooded the clearing, an invisible wall seeming to shield it from the line of trees where Kurt stood. And it moved in such strange ways, swirling and tugging at objects, pulling things down into the openings where the vines had already retreated, and then the last of the water swirled, whirlpool-style into the caverns, and then the earth shifted and the caverns closed.

And the meadow looked like a slightly soggy version of itself from before the confrontation.

Blaine noticed a rustling of movement beside him, and a branch from a neighboring tree bent itself into what looked like a three-pronged hand, palm cupped, waiting for Blaine. He climbed into it.

The tree bent with a gentle creek, and set Blaine on the ground next to Kurt.

Blaine just stared at him.

The fire in his eyes was gone now, and the glow – Kurt still had his usual pale moonlight glow, of course, but the pulsating colors had faded away.

He was looking down at his hands.

And the look on his face contrasted so starkly with the look he had just worn. He looked frightened and vulnerable, and the fact that he wasn't meeting Blaine's eyes was clearly intentional.

"So..." Blaine said carefully. "The verbena. About two weeks, then, to flush it out?"

Kurt continued to study his hands. "More like a week and a half," he mumbled.

"Kurt." Blaine tried leaning in to catch his gaze, but Kurt turned his head slightly.

"Kurt, please look at me."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to look in your eyes and see what you think of me."

"Kurt...you know what I think of you. Now that I've seen your power, I..."

"I'm a monster."

"No. You're a survivor."

And Kurt finally lifted his head and met Blaine's gaze.

"I didn't just kill them, Blaine. I...I..."

"You were a slave for five years. I think you're entitled to a little catharsis."

Kurt sighed and moved his gaze back to his hands.

"Kurt...that's how I got better so fast, isn't it? You healed me."

Kurt nodded.

"I...thank you. But...I don't understand. Why did you lie to me?"

"Blaine, don't," Kurt said softly.

"Don't what?"

"I...I can't."

Kurt brought his hand to his face, and his shoulders began to shake with sobs. Blaine simply looked at him in bewilderment. After a few moments, Blaine moved toward Kurt gingerly, and reached out to touch him.

He half expected Kurt to flinch away from him. He did  _not_  expect Kurt to catch the sides of Blaine's face in his hands and pull him close, so close that their breath mingled into one heat. So close that they were almost touching.

"Blaine, I'm scared. I'm  _so_  scared."

"Kurt, what is it?  _Please._  I want to help you."

"Blaine, I don't know what you're doing to me."

Blaine breathed in deep. "Kurt," was all he could manage to say.

"When you said before...that I wouldn't need you when I got my power back. That scared me so much. Because I  _do_ need you. I don't want you to leave me."

"Kurt, I'll never leave you. Not unless you want me to." Blaine felt his own tears start to sting his eyes, and he wasn't entirely sure why.

"And I just...I don't know what to do. When I think about going home, I think about you being there with me. But you won't be there. I can't have you there. And I can't stand it and it scares me  _so much."_

"Kurt..." and he wanted to say  _come with me to Khryslee. Be with me forever,_  but he couldn't do it. He couldn't use Kurt's vulnerability against him like that. So instead he said, "You don't have to decide anything right now, Kurt, but I'm here for as long as you want me."

And then Kurt's grip on his face tightened, and Kurt choked back a sob and whispered, "I want you so badly that sometimes I can't even breathe."

And Blaine's hands shot out and clutched at Kurt's biceps and held on tight, because it was the only thing he could do to keep his knees from giving out entirely.

Kurt slid one hand to the back of Blaine's head and laced his fingers into his hair, and then he moved that whisper of distance toward him, and their lips met.

There was no hesitation. Kurt leaned his body into Blaine's and kissed him slow and hard and deep, and he didn't let Blaine fall.

And as soon as Blaine realized that  _yes, this is real, yes, this is actually happening,_  he won back a bit of control over his limbs and he wrapped his arms around Kurt and surrendered completely.

Kurt tasted like a summer garden.


	7. Chapter 7

Blaine wasn't dreaming.

Kurt was tracing the contours of his face. They were lying on a blanket near the bank of the small pond where they had made their camp, and the hand that wasn't moving gently across his features was between Blaine's fingers.

They had been watching the sun rise, but now they were just watching each other.

They hadn't been able to sleep after the events of the night before, hadn't even tried. There was too much to say, so they hadn't really talked much either. What few things they had said were simple and laced with sweetness, like what Kurt said now.

"You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen."

Blaine smiled, softly kissed Kurt's thumb as it trailed across his lips.

"For a human, you mean."

"No, Blaine. For a  _person._  You take my breath away."

Blaine leaned in and caught Kurt's lips with his own. They pulled each other closer.

They had been doing that quite a bit in the long stretches between words.

It never stopped feeling like the right thing to say.

Blaine was nearly delirious with adrenaline and sleep deprivation and whatever it was that Kurt had done to him when he healed him, and so it really was necessary to keep reminding himself that he wasn't dreaming.

Because he couldn't be.

Because even the best dreams he'd ever had didn't capture the way Kurt's lips fit together so perfectly with his, the way Kurt's tongue felt in his mouth, the way Kurt tasted, the way he made Blaine's skin buzz with every touch.

Kurt ran his hand down Blaine's back, and slipped it under his tunic. He trailed his knuckle up against Blaine's bare skin.

" _Kurt,"_ Blaine moaned against his lips. Kurt's hands were like pure silk.

Blaine could only imagine how the rest of his skin might feel.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered breathlessly, "touch me."

Blaine stiffened. One hand was on Kurt's clothed arm and the other was threaded through his hair. It felt good and it felt safe, and what Kurt was asking for felt entirely dangerous.

"I...I..." he stuttered.

"I'm not going to fall apart, Blaine. I just want to feel your hands on my skin. I want to feel nice. Doesn't this feel nice?" Kurt moved the hand under Blaine's tunic to his chest, stroking gently, fingers slipping over a nipple.

"Y-yes," Blaine managed, "but Kurt...I'm kind of scared."

"Of what?"

"Of...I...you...everything you've been through, Kurt. I don't want to hurt you."

"Blaine. Do you trust me?"

"Completely."

"Are you sure? I know I lied to you about the verbena, and..."

"Kurt." Blaine inched his head back just enough to look Kurt in the eye.  _"Completely."_

"Then trust me when I say I want you to touch me. Trust me when I say I want  _you_."

"I know, just...what if I get carried away and..."

"Would you get too carried away to stop if I asked you to?"

"No. Of course not."

"Then I really don't see a problem, Blaine. Unless..."

"Unless what?" Blaine asked softly.

Kurt averted his gaze.

"Unless you don't want to touch me, after...what I've been used for."

"Kurt,  _no."_ Blaine stroked Kurt's jaw gently. "I think I'm scared of how  _much_  I want to touch you. But I...I don't want you to feel like I'm just another man who wants you for...physical reasons."

Kurt looked back at Blaine with warmth.

"Blaine, the first time we ever really spoke, you told me that Dronyen was doing things  _to_  me and not  _with_ me, because I didn't want him and I never gave my consent. I had been living that way for so long that I'd almost forgotten that."

Kurt paused to kiss Blaine tenderly before continuing.

"Blaine, I've never been  _with_  another man. Don't you think that maybe...after everything I've been through...that I deserve to be?"

Blaine smiled at Kurt through a sheen of tears. "Oh, Kurt, of  _course_ you do."

"And now I'm finally here, with a man I actually want, and he's afraid to touch me because he thinks he's going to traumatize me. How is that fair?"

Blaine laughed.

"All right, I get it. Just...I need you to promise me that you'll tell me if it becomes too much, and you want me to stop. I'm not saying I don't trust you, Kurt, I just..."

"Need to hear me say it?"

"Yes."

"Blaine, I promise that I will tell you if I want you to stop. And I trust you too. And I want you to touch me very,  _very_  much."

Blaine smiled, moving his hand to Kurt's waist. He slowly began to slide his palm up Kurt's back, beneath his tunic, exhaling with sheer awe at the softness of his skin and the firmness of his body.

There was still a question in Blaine's eyes, so Kurt sat up slightly and pulled his tunic off completely, tossing it aside. He reached for Blaine's as well, and Blaine lifted his arms to help Kurt remove the garment, his eyes wide and bright.

They took a moment to simply stare; they had seen one another's bodies before, but this was entirely different. Now there was an invitation to look, to touch, to breathe each other in.

Kurt pulled Blaine against him and then on top of him as he eased himself down onto his back.

They kissed, chest to chest, skin to skin, but at an angle, so that the physical contact stopped at the waist.

Blaine kissed a trail from Kurt's jaw to the hollow at the base of his throat. He looked up at Kurt and received a nod before allowing his lips to continue on their path. He kissed one of Kurt's nipples, and then licked it, Kurt giving a small squeak of pleasure and arching his back into the wet warmth.

Blaine licked and sucked the nipple thoroughly before moving to the other one, Kurt squirming and sighing beneath him. Blaine was definitely very aroused at this point, and was grateful that Kurt couldn't feel his hardness against him.

Kurt was sliding one palm up and down Blaine's back, the other hand tangled in his dark curls.

Blaine continued kissing across Kurt's chest and stomach, pressing his lips to every inch of skin possible, trailing his tongue in small, lazy patterns.

Kurt moaned softly, and whispered his name. Whispered how lovely it felt. Whispered  _Please Don't Stop._

As he shifted slightly, kissing a line just above the waist of Kurt's trousers, Blaine's shoulder brushed against Kurt's groin, and he was suddenly aware that he wasn't the only one who was aroused.

Nervously, he moved his lips back to Kurt's and kissed him, moving onto his back and tugging Kurt's chest gently on top of his. However much Kurt might trust him, Blaine still wanted to offer him some control.

To Blaine's surprise, Kurt rose to his knees swung a leg over him, hovering above him on all fours.

Kurt leaned his head down and kissed him hard, their lips the only place where their bodies met.

Kurt's hair fell against Blaine's cheeks, tickling him slightly when the breeze made it dance. Blaine sighed with pleasure, raised a hand to trace the perfect point of an elfin ear.

And then he forgot his own name.

Because Kurt had eased his hips down onto Blaine's, their erections pressing together through their thin trousers. Blaine threw his head back and groaned deeply, unintentionally losing Kurt's lips in the process.

Kurt used the opportunity to press his mouth to Blaine's neck and suck gently as he began to slightly rock his pelvis.

Blaine wasn't sure when his hands had found their way to Kurt's hips, fingers venturing carefully across the perfect swell of his rounded ass, but suddenly he realized he was  _squeezing_. His first instinct was to make himself stop, but Kurt was making soft sounds that were unmistakably induced by pleasure, so Blaine let himself relax into the moment, the contact, the undeniable fact that Kurt's body was on his.

" _Blaine,"_ Kurt groaned, his voice huskier than Blaine had ever heard it but no less musical, as he settled himself on top of Blaine completely, reaching behind himself to ease Blaine's hands completely over his ass.

"I love you," Blaine whispered, and Kurt's lips fell onto his as their bodies moved together.

They rutted against each other slowly at first, but before long Kurt's thrusts had grown hard and hungry, and he slid his hands, palms up, underneath Blaine, fingers curling up over his shoulders and holding tight.

Blaine continued to knead Kurt's ass in time with the rocking of their bodies, his own moans mingling with Kurt's as their chests slid against one another, lubricated by a thin film of sweat.

Blaine buried his face in Kurt's neck, kissing the smooth skin between ragged gasps. The sounds Kurt was making were so delectable Blaine could almost taste them with his tongue as they vibrated through his slender throat.

Feeling his climax sidle up to him, winding through his belly and groin, Blaine rolled is eyes back and let the delicious friction unravel him completely as he came with a breathless wail.

Kurt continued to thrust against him as Blaine rode out his orgasm, following soon after with a piercing cry.

Kurt collapsed on top of Blaine, and he was shaking with what seemed like sobs.

But they weren't. Kurt was shaking with  _laughter._

Kurt was laughing almost deliriously, and it was a sound of pure joy. After a moment he sat up, bringing Blaine with him and pulling him into a crushing hug.

"Oh, Blaine, that was  _fantastic,"_ he sighed, and then squealed with delight and fell back into a fit of giggles.

And Blaine couldn't help but join in the infectious laughter, because it was beautiful and pure and perfect, and Kurt seemed so happy and that made him happy, and it  _had_  been fantastic.

When they finally pulled away, the smiles that they fixed on one another outshone the sun.

They ate something. They bathed quickly in the pond. They changed into clean clothes. And then they slept the morning away, faces close and limbs intertwined.

* * *

That afternoon they were back on the road. Blaine had casually argued in favor of staying at the campsite for a few days, since they had nothing to worry about from Dronyen anymore.

Kurt, however, had begged to differ.

Even though he was as inclined as Blaine to delay the journey that could probably only end in heartbreak, he knew that Dronyen wasn't going to simply surrender and leave them to their respective destinies.

The game had changed, there was no doubt of that, but it was far from over. Kurt had been caught before and he could be caught again. And Kurt was fairly certain that Dronyen was far more familiar with the limitations on Sidhe power than Blaine was.

Also? Now Blaine was the one that needed protection. Because it was more than likely that Dronyen would figure out exactly what Blaine meant to Kurt.

And if the idea of breaking Kurt had excited Dronyen before, the notion of breaking him at full strength would have him absolutely  _salivating._

And the easiest way to do that now would be for Dronyen to get his hands on Blaine.

Beautiful Blaine.

Blaine, who was all Kurt wanted to think about. Blaine, who Kurt couldn't let himself think too deeply about. He would let himself feel, because he had no choice, but every time he began to think too much about what it all meant, he would push his thoughts away and just concentrate on the sweetness and the peace and the urgency and the heat that Blaine set to swirling in Kurt's gut every time he looked at him.

Because Blaine made him feel...well,  _more_  than he'd felt in a very long time.

Or perhaps even ever in his life.

But no, that was too close to thinking. And he couldn't let himself think. Because they still had some time before they got close to the Faerie Lands, and Kurt wanted to enjoy it as much as possible. And he had already decided to let his body have this bliss, even if it was just for a heartbeat of time in the long life of a Sidhe like himself.

Because he needed it. Because the pleasure was like a balm for his wounds.

Because Blaine made him feel like he was pure and fierce and beautiful and unblemished and deserved to be loved.

Kurt glanced over to Blaine, who was gazing at him and smiling. He passed Blaine one of the reins to hold, and laced his fingers together with the hand closest to him, resting their joined hands between them.

Right now they were here, and Kurt was happy. Right now no one was trying to hurt them and no one was trying to take Blaine from him. Right now Blaine was looking at Kurt like he was the most perfect being in all creation.

Right now they had each other.

They rode on.


	8. Chapter 8

They approached the next village with apprehension.

After much debate, they had finally decided to veer off course a bit in the hopes of throwing Dronyen off their trail. They would have preferred not to stop at all, but the horses needed reshoeing, and they needed some items that Kurt couldn't simply produce from the earth with a flick of his wrist.

Neither Kurt nor Blaine knew exactly where they stood now with regard to Dronyen. He had clearly known where they were headed, and by now word may have gotten back to him about Kurt's newfound power.

And the fact that Kurt was staying with Blaine by choice.

And the fact that Kurt was willing to kill to defend him.

When they arrived in L'auvi, they received what had become the standard reaction; Kurt was a point of fascination, but not to an unusual degree, and Blaine was simply regarded as a passer-through with money to spend, which generally accorded him a degree of cool politeness.

The change in their dynamic had undeniably affected their ability to play the master-and-slave roles that their presence required. Blaine wondered briefly if they could just go ahead and drop the charade, as Kurt pretty much had the power to tear apart anyone who looked at them wrong.

Kurt smiled at the obvious pride Blaine took in his power, but shook his head no.

"It will be different when we reach the border towns, Blaine. No one would dare parade a Sidhe slave anywhere close to the Faerie Lands, but we're still too far east right now. We would just attract even more attention to ourselves than we already are."

Blaine felt a sickly mix of pleasure and guilt to hear that they were still reasonably far from the border towns. It meant that Kurt would have to suffer the indignity of pretending to be Blaine's property even longer.

It also meant that he and Kurt would be together all that time, sleeping together every night, holding and kissing and caressing each other until Blaine thought his heart might burst.

When they reached the market downtown, Blaine immediately ran for the first dairy stall he saw, and Kurt laughed lightly. Blaine had stopped eating flesh, had traded away every bit of dried meat and fish he had, when he realized that it bothered Kurt. Kurt had never asked him to do it, but he was touched by the action nonetheless.

Blaine, however, was  _not_  about to give up milk and cheese and eggs, and he bounced giddily at any opportunity to enjoy them.

Blaine was guzzling a bottle of milk in an almost obscene fashion when another stall caught Kurt's eye.

"Master, may I...?" Kurt asked, eyes averted, tone demure.

Blaine tried hard to disguise his wince before waving him off dismissively and barking out a gruff "just stay where I can see you."

Kurt went over to the stall, eyes raking across the wares before him.

He picked up the beautifully crafted set of panpipes that had first caught his eye.

He wanted so badly to try them out, but the merchant behind the table had fixed him with a suspicious glare, and looked like the sort to scream about not being able to sell pipes that had been covered in elf spit, rather than the sort to try to take Kurt to bed in exchange for them.

Not that the two sorts never overlapped.

Just as he was sure the merchant was going to demand that he put the pipes down, Kurt heard a whisper behind him.

"Do you play?"

He turned to Blaine and nodded shyly. Blaine smiled and took the instrument from his hand.

Kurt watched as Blaine went and talked to the merchant, returning with not only Kurt's pipes, but a long-necked lute as well.

"We should play together," Blaine said softly, as they walked further into the market. "It would be nice. I've been too long without music."

Kurt smiled and wanted to hold his hand and kiss him. But it would appear unseemly, so he settled for "accidentally" brushing his hand against Blaine's thigh. Blaine responded with a gentle smirk and a raised eyebrow, which only made Kurt want to do  _more_  than hold his hand and kiss him.

"How long will it be until the horses are ready?" He whispered to Blaine.

Blaine licked his lips. "Too long," he replied.

* * *

They found an inn.

"This is absurd," Kurt mumbled between kisses, as Blaine pulled him toward the bed. "The horses will be ready in a couple of hours, and you shouldn't spend your money on-"

" _Our_  money, Kurt. And there's plenty. I stole it from Dronyen. I can't think of anything  _better_  to spend it on." Blaine pulled Kurt flush against him and licked his ear slowly, from rounded lobe to pointed tip.

"Can  _you?"_ he breathed huskily into the moistened flesh of Kurt's ear.

Kurt swallowed hard. "N-no, I suppose not."

Kurt moved to sit on the edge of the bed and unlace his boots. When he had finished, he stood back up and unlaced the top of his tunic, and then slid it over his head. Blushing slightly, he caught Blaine's eye before nervously working at his belt and pulling down his trousers and undershorts together.

Blaine watched, mesmerized, until Kurt was naked before him. And then he heard himself let out a faint whimper.

Kurt smiled, then bit his lip and averted his gaze slightly. It took a moment for Blaine to realize that Kurt was probably feeling a bit vulnerable while Blaine stood there fully clothed, so Blaine quickly proceeded to remedy the situation.

Kurt did seem to relax once Blaine was naked too, and he reached his hand toward him, fingers lightly touching Blaine's stomach.

"Blaine is it all right if I...?" Kurt asked, trailing his fingertips very, very slowly down.

Blaine opened his mouth to say yes, but when all he could manage was a sort of strangled squeak, he simply nodded emphatically instead.

Kurt reached down and cupped Blaine's hard length very gently, and Blaine fell against him with a moan.

"Blaine," Kurt murmured, "You feel so...I want to..."

"Anything," Blaine groaned.  _Anything_  you want, Kurt. Please just...God, I just  _want_  you."

Kurt kissed him, still just holding his cock, tracing its contours with his thumb.

"I want us...I want to make love with you, Blaine. Can we...I mean is it all right if we do that?"

Blaine was utterly distracted by the slender fingers and wandering thumb on his erection. He was, however, mentally present enough to find it odd that Kurt really didn't know the answer to that question.

"Kurt, I...yes, I..." Blaine took a deep breath. He was  _not_ looking forward to this next part.

He gently moved Kurt's hand away from him, bringing it to his lips to kiss his knuckle.

"I'm sorry, I just really can't have a conversation with you while you're doing that."

Kurt looked a bit sheepish. "Oh."

Blaine smiled. "Not that I'm complaining. It felt really nice." He took Kurt's hand and sat down on the bed, Kurt following his lead.

"Kurt, of course that's all right. That's  _better_ than all right. Did you really think I'd say no?"

"No. Yes. I don't know. I..."

Blaine looked at him with concern.

"Kurt, did you want to be the one to make love to me? Is that it? Because I'm very much all right with that."

Kurt shook his head and looked at his hands.

"No, Blaine, I...no. I want  _you_ to...I want you to."

"That works very well for me too, Kurt. I told you, anything you want."

"It's just...it doesn't mean I liked it. Before, when...I don't want you to think...oh,  _Gods,_  Blaine."

Kurt sighed. Blaine took his hand.

After a moment, Kurt looked back at him.

"Blaine, you've...you've had men  _fuck_  you, haven't you?" He said the word quickly, pushing it out and then scuttling away from it as if it scared him.

Blaine nodded. "Yes I have."

"And you...you like that?"

"I do."

"It feels good?"

"It can. When it's done properly, it feels fantastic."

Kurt started to cry. Blaine pulled him into a hug.

"Gods, I'm pathetic! What is  _wrong_  with me, Blaine?"

"Nothing," Blaine murmured. "You're perfect."

"Blaine, it...well, the physical act of it was done to me so many times that I feel like I should never want it again. I feel like there must be something very wrong with me for wanting it. But...I just...I need to see what it  _can_  be. What it  _should_ be. Does that make any sense at all? Am I just a filthy-"

"It makes a lot of sense, Kurt," Blaine said, cutting him off quickly. "And please don't ever use words like that to talk about yourself. It breaks my heart."

Kurt pulled back and smiled at him, looking a little embarrassed. Blaine smoothed the tears away from Kurt's cheeks with his thumbs and kissed him very, very softly.

"Kurt, I'm honored," he whispered, "to be the first man to make love to you. I'm the luckiest man in the world."

Kurt sighed happily, and leaned back in for another kiss.

They let this kiss gather heat, and Kurt pushed Blaine back onto the bed, shifting with him until they were lying across it properly, with Kurt on top of Blaine.

Blaine ran his hands up and down Kurt's sides, over the perfect roundness of his ass, down the backs of his thighs. His skin felt so incredible, like silk and rose petals and mist somehow made warm and solid.

And Blaine decided that this was the most important thing he was ever going to do. Because he was going to do everything he could to make this absolutely  _amazing_  for Kurt. To show Kurt that being made love to was completely different from being taken by force in every way that actually mattered.

Because Kurt had been incredibly, indescribably brave when he asked Blaine to show him. And Blaine couldn't bear to let him down.

Blaine rested his hands on Kurt's lower back, and gently stilled the grinding that had inevitably started.

"Kurt...I may need to go down to the dining room to get some...um...oil or something, for..."

Kurt lifted his head and gave a smile that couldn't be described as anything other than impish.

"I've got something better," he said.

He climbed off of Blaine and went over to the dresser, where a jug of water had been laid out along with drinking glasses and a wide, shallow bowl for washing. Kurt poured a bit of water into the bowl, then he dipped the tips of his fingers into the water, producing a soft golden glow. He pulled his fingers away and the water continued to glow, seemingly of its own volition, and then a tiny green shoot popped up. It continued to grow and unfurl quickly, until it was a tiny shrub with white-gold branches and pale green leaves and six very oversized and very odd-looking crimson flowers springing forth from it.

Kurt looked immensely pleased with himself.

He plucked one of the flowers gently from the shrub and brought it over to Blaine. Blaine sat up on the bed and peered at it curiously. It was definitely a flower, but the petals were tightly closed, their pointed tips twisting together into a sort of spiral. Kurt placed it in Blaine's palm and began to carefully unwind the tips of the petals until they suddenly sprang open. Inside, the bottoms of the petals seemed to grow into a smooth wall of plant flesh, creating a cup which held glistening liquid. A delicious and utterly alien scent drifted up; sweet and floral but somehow pleasantly sharp at the same time.

Kurt dipped his fore and middle finger into the liquid, and then held them to Blaine's mouth.

"taste," he said softly.

Blaine took Kurt's fingers into his mouth and sucked gently, finding the taste intriguing and not at all unpleasant. The consistency was very similar to the plant oils he was familiar with, and it tasted tart and fresh and almost effervescent, making his tongue tingle.

In fact, it seemed to be making his entire mouth tingle.

Kurt laughed softly at his expression, dipping his fingers back into the flower. Kurt trailed the liquid over his own lips, and then leaned in to kiss Blaine.

And... _wow._

It was as if the kiss were ten kisses all at once. Every part of his mouth was pulsing with sensation, and when Kurt's tongue found its way into his mouth, Blaine groaned loudly and fell back against the pillows, pulling Kurt down on top of him.

Kurt managed to catch the flower before it fell from Blaine's hand, placing it on the nightstand before returning his full attention to the man beneath him.

And for a few moments, Blaine forgot all about making love. Because this,  _this_  was possibly the most incredible sensation he'd ever felt. The wetness of Kurt's mouth, the soft, plump lips slicked with oil, the talented tongue, slightly longer and narrower than a human tongue – Blaine had never felt any of it like  _this_  before. It was almost too much to bear.

Kurt finally pulled away breathlessly, smiling down at him.

"Kurt, what  _is_  that?"

The name was not one Blaine could ever fathom pronouncing, which he assumed meant it was a plant from Faerie Country. "It heightens sensation and is highly prized by lovers."

"I can see why," Blaine murmured, and then Kurt's words actually sunk in.

Highly prized by lovers.

Which meant...

"Oh my  _God,"_  Blaine groaned, his entire body spasming at the idea of being inside of Kurt with  _that_ spread all over them.

Blaine's lips were still tingling with sensation. He pulled Kurt's lips back against his own, and gripped him around the waist, moving them until Kurt was lying on his back.

Blaine paused to coat his fingers in oil from the flower, and then moved his hand between Kurt's legs.

He nudged Kurt's legs apart gently, and then let his fingers slide across that delicious spot behind his testicles, between his cheeks, across his already pulsing entrance.

Kurt gasped sharply, and Blaine paused.

"Keep going?" Blaine asked. "Or...?"

Kurt stared at him through eyes like a storm-tossed sea. "Keep going," he whispered, his voice rough.

Blaine continued moving his fingers, Kurt continuing to gasp at the intensity of feeling.

And Blaine was finding this pretty incredible too, because his fingers were so unbelievably sensitive from the oil, and he could feel every nuance of the hot, tender flesh against them, and Kurt looked simply delicious with his head thrown back, his eyes half-lidded, his lips parted and his back arched, emitting breathy moans that were driving Blaine absolutely insane.

Blaine removed his fingers briefly, dipping back into the flower for more.

When he brought his fingers back to their previous station, he began to tease Kurt's entrance, circling gently and then more firmly before slowly pushing a finger inside.

Kurt tensed.  _"Oh!"_

Blaine paused, both to let Kurt adjust and to give him an opportunity to change his mind.

Kurt relaxed around him, and Blaine began to move his finger, overwhelmed by the tight heat and the texture surrounding it. He moved a second finger inside when Kurt seemed ready, pausing again until Kurt relaxed before moving it both with and against the other, gently stretching.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Kurt breathed.

"Getting you ready," Blaine said, not liking the look of confusion on Kurt's face.

"Hmmm," Kurt murmured, sounding intrigued.

Blaine did not want to cry. He did not want to make Kurt cry. But the thought that no one had ever done this for him before...something so simple, so easy, just to lessen the pain...

No. Now was not the time to think about that. Now was the time to make Kurt feel good. Now was the time to make Kurt feel  _incredible._

Blaine began searching. Sidhe physiology seemed similar enough to that of human men, so it would be nothing short of a cruel joke if Kurt didn't have-

" _OH, GODS, BLAINE!"_

Well. It appeared he did.

Blaine began stroking the nub, Kurt crying out in pleasure as he writhed against him. Kurt didn't even tense up slightly when Blaine slipped a third finger inside of him, stroking in and out, spreading his fingers and letting them wiggle.

And now Blaine knew that they were getting close to the final act. Because Kurt was thrusting against him, and Kurt's cock was hard and thick and had turned the color of wild violets, and it was leaking.

Blaine licked a stripe down the length of it, and Kurt cried out. Blaine paused at the base for a quick nuzzle, because Kurt's sparse pubic hair was as soft as down, and Blaine had never felt anything like it.

" _Blaine,"_  Kurt whimpered. "I... _please._  I want you. I want  _all_  of you."

Blaine didn't need to be told twice.

He moved his fingers out of Kurt, and shifted himself back so that he was sitting against the headboard. Kurt looked up at him bemusedly.

"I think...this position might be nice. If you want to try it."

He pulled Kurt up and maneuvered him so that he was straddling Blaine's lap.

Kurt smiled, looking excited. "All right."

And then Kurt reached over and picked up the flower, and he drizzled most of the remaining oil over Blaine's length. Blaine stopped him before he used it all, because he wanted to save some for Kurt as well.

Kurt began to pump Blaine slowly with his hand, and Blaine almost choked at the excess of pleasure. God, he hoped he could last long enough to make Kurt come.

Kurt moved up onto his knees, hovering above Blaine. Their eyes locked, and Blaine couldn't help but say "I love you" before kissing Kurt and lining himself up, and then Kurt finally allowed himself to sink down on top of him.

There were no words. Simply no words.

Blaine clutched Kurt to him, gasping for air, because this was  _Kurt,_  and this felt fantastic, but even more than that, the sheer excess of sensation was almost more than he could physically take.

Kurt made a noise that was both soft and gut-deep, and it brought Blaine back, his face falling against Kurt's neck, and his hands moving to Kurt's hips, and he began to guide him in a steady rhythm, slow at first because they needed to make this last, thrusting up into him each time he slid down.

" _Kurt,"_ Blaine whispered. "Kurt, you feel amazing. You feel  _amazing."_

Blaine moved his knees up behind Kurt, feet flat against the mattress, shifting his body until Kurt gave the strangled yelp of pleasure that suggested Blaine had hit the spot he was looking for.

And then they began to move faster.

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck and worked his hips up and down, moaning and gasping and occasionally breathing Blaine's name into his ear.

And Blaine reached over to the flower, managing to control his hand just enough to pour what remained of the liquid over Kurt's erection. He began to stroke Kurt in time to his upward thrusts, and Kurt cried out, moving his hands to clutch at Blaine's shoulders and letting his forehead fall against Blaine's neck.

Kurt was shuddering, and it wasn't until he felt the wetness against his neck that Blaine realized he was sobbing.

"Kurt..." Blaine said softly, stilling the hand on Kurt's length and bringing it up to Kurt's face.

Kurt shook his head and looked in Blaine's eyes.

"No..." he whispered shakily, giving Blaine a moist smile. "They're good tears, Blaine.  _Good_ tears."

Kurt leaned in to kiss him, guiding Blaine's hand back down to his cock, and they sped up their movements again, Kurt crying harder and making sounds of intense pleasure all at once, kissing Blaine over and over, the fingers of one hand digging into his curls while the other clutched at his back.

And Blaine held onto Kurt's hip with one hand, stroking him with the other, and God, he wanted to come, the only thing he could imagine was how unbelievably  _close_  he was, but he couldn't let go, not until Kurt did...

And then Kurt did. He tensed around Blaine, his entire body going rigid, pulling Blaine's hair without even meaning to, and screaming out Blaine's name.

_Blaine's name._

That was what did it for Blaine; just hearing Kurt call out like that, just knowing that when Kurt utterly lost control and surrendered to pleasure, that  _he_  was the thought in Kurt's mind and the word on his lips.

Blaine let go. He came so hard he thought he might lose consciousness. He came so hard he was half-convinced he might never be able to come again. And he called out  _Kurt's_ name, because that was the only thought in his mind, and the only word he wanted on his lips.

Kurt's arms were wrapped around him, and his face was buried in Blaine's neck, and his tears were slowly subsiding.

Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt as well, and just held him.

He wanted Kurt to be the first to speak.

Finally, Kurt sat up fully, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand and looking down at Blaine with an expression of overwhelming sweetness.

"Thank you," he whispered. "That...that changed my life, Blaine." And it was clear that he was perfectly serious.

"It changed mine too," Blaine said, because it really, really did.

They kissed, and then Kurt carefully climbed off of Blaine, letting out a small gasp as Blaine slipped out of him.

Blaine was gazing at him with a look of pure euphoria, and trailed a finger across the sticky residue on Kurt's chest without even really thinking about it. He brought the finger to his lips to taste.

His eyes went wide.

"Kurt! Oh, my – that's  _delicious!_  I've never tasted – it's like  _ambrosia!"_

Unable to contain himself, Blaine leapt at Kurt, sliding him onto his back and lapping hungrily at his stomach and chest, while Kurt giggled uncontrollably.

"You're never tasting mine," Blaine mumbled against him. " _Never._  It's disgusting. You...God, _everything_  about you is just so...incredible."

Kurt let his hands fall against the back of Blaine's head, and he sighed and smiled happily at the ceiling.

* * *

They stayed at the inn that night. After dinner, Kurt played his pipes and Blaine played his lute, and they fell into easy melodies with one another, finding songs they were surprised to know in common and songs from deep in childhood that they laced together into something new. Blaine sang, and Kurt was surprised and impressed at the fine, clear timbre of his voice.

They lay beside each other, enjoying the comfort and novelty of a bed to sleep in, touching each other gently, feeling none of the urgency from earlier that day. Just comfort. Just bliss. Blaine gazed at Kurt with heavy eyes, smiling.

"I love you," he murmured sleepily, while Kurt stroked his cheek tenderly and watched his breath become slow and even, his features lovely and delicate in the pale moonlight.

Kurt couldn't sleep. He waited for Blaine to drift off, and then walked over to the window, looking out over the village with his arms wrapped around himself. He began to cry, placing his hand firmly over his mouth so as not to wake Blaine. He let his forehead slowly fall against the window pane.

"I love you too," he whispered, and began to cry harder.

Because this was bad.

This was very, very bad.


	9. Chapter 9

Love can tend to make one careless.

It can tend to take up far too much of one's attention and overwhelm one's perceptions.

It can tend to make one feel unbreakable.

Love can be very, very dangerous.

Kurt and Blaine didn't notice that they were being far less careful in selecting their campsites. They weren't honest with themselves about how slowly they were traveling, spending far more time making love and far less time on the road. They didn't realize the extent to which they had become utterly absorbed in one another, failing to notice the details of their environment.

They didn't notice that they were being followed.

It had been over a week since Kurt had kissed Blaine for the first time that counted. They had found a beautiful grove, too lovely to resist, and had stopped earlier in the day than they probably should have to set up camp.

They spent hours in the tall soft grass together before they even thought to free the horses from their tether, Kurt feeling particularly guilty about this oversight. Blaine whined slightly as Kurt jumped to his feet, the sunlight sparkling on his naked skin, to give the horses some water and allow them to graze.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Blaine sighed. "I should probably put up the tent," he conceded.

Blaine dressed, leaving his boots off so he could continue to feel the warm grass between his toes. Kurt had put only his trousers back on, and Blaine admired the way his back muscles worked as he untethered the horses. He had begun to memorize Kurt's body, and he loved partnering the sight of him with the memory of how it felt to touch him. When he strained his arm, the curve of his bicep coming into focus, Blaine remembered the sensation of trailing his tongue across it. When he stretched his neck and the tendons stood out, he remembered tracing their lines with his fingers while Kurt's throat vibrated with moans.

Tent. Right. Blaine needed to set up the tent.

Blaine had just finished stringing the tent between two trees when Kurt walked over to him, still shirtless, and wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist. Kurt's skin was sun-warm, and Blaine leaned back against the tree behind him and sighed as Kurt began to kiss him.

It was perfect.

Until it wasn't.

Too late, they heard the rustle of leaves above them. Too late, they started to move when they realized something had started to fall.

When the chains hit them, Blaine was struck soundly in the head, barely registering the sound of Kurt screaming and the faint smell of iron before the world bled to black and he crumpled to the ground.

* * *

The first thing Blaine became aware of was pain. His head hurt so badly that he almost vomited. He opened his eyes and tried to sit up and promptly passed out again.

Blaine was slightly more careful the second time. He gave himself a few moments to take stock of his body before he even opened his eyes. He wasn't terribly uncomfortable; it felt like he was on a bed, or something soft. His arms hurt, and he wriggled his hands experimentally. His wrists seemed to be shackled to something, and his legs were bound as well. He opened his eyes slowly to soft lamplight. Very, very slowly, he began to raise his head. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he groaned.

"Blaine?"

 _Kurt._  Kurt was here. Whatever else might be happening, Kurt was here, and Blaine couldn't help but let out a sob of relief. Blaine turned his head toward the voice.

His sense of relief quickly vanished, making space for dread.

Blaine was clearly chained to a bed, flat on his back, with his arms attached to the headboard behind him with metal cuffs. Kurt was directly in his line of sight when Blaine turned his head to the right, and he was chained to the wall. Kurt had a black eye and a bloody lip, and his skin had taken on a dull and waxy pallor. He was sitting with his head on his bent knees and his arms wrapped around his calves, and he was draped in iron chains.

"Kurt," he croaked hoarsely. "What- where are we? What happened?"

"We got careless," Kurt said flatly. The defeat in his voice felt like a knife in Blaine's heart.

Blaine closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, trying to bite back tears.

They had been so close. If they had just paid more attention, traveled a little faster, remembered how unsafe they still were...

"What are we going to do?" Blaine whispered.

"What  _can_  we do, Blaine? We've been caught. It's over."

Blaine opened his eyes and stared at Kurt. "No. It can't be over. Kurt, you  _know_  it isn't really over."

Kurt's eyes welled up, and he dropped his head.

"I'm so sorry, Blaine. You never should have rescued me."

"Don't say that."

"You shouldn't have. If you'd just left me there with Dronyen, you would be free now. And I'd be in exactly the same position I'm in now."

"It was worth it, Kurt." Blaine stared at him hard, willing him to meet his gaze. "Even if it gets me killed, it was worth it...just to be with you."

Kurt met his eyes then, smiling sadly. "It wasn't worth it if it gets you killed, Blaine. I'm not worth that."

Blaine attempted to shift himself to the side to more fully face Kurt, a link in the chains that bound him reflecting the lamp light on the wall.

Kurt was staring at it. "Blaine," he whispered, wide-eyed. There was something in his voice. Something that made Blaine's heart skip a beat.

"Your chains...they aren't iron?"

Blaine flexed slightly and inspected them.

"No. Steel, I think? I guess they don't want to waste iron on humans when steel will work just as-"

"Blaine." Kurt's eyes darted to the doorway and then back. "Please listen carefully, because I might not have time to repeat myself. When I...when I healed you back at that inn in V'auda, I may have left you with a little something."

Blaine's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, but Kurt held his hand up as much as his shackles would allow.

"I had to. It's just...just a  _little_  bit of my power, and it's only temporary, so please don't be upset. But if you can...if you can get an anchor, we may actually be able to get out of this."

Blaine swallowed hard, not daring the hope to rise in his chest.

"Anchor?" He asked. "What-"

"You need to anchor the power in something essential to make it work. An element. Earth, fire, water-"

"-air?" Blaine asked hopefully, looking around him.

Kurt sighed. "No, unfortunately. Air is a conduit, not an anchor. But if you can get your hands on- there!" Kurt was staring above and behind Blaine's head. Blaine craned his neck. On the wall behind him, above the headboard, an oil lamp was mounted on the wall, a strong flame burning inside an open-mouthed glass ball.

Oh. Fire. That had actually been Blaine's least favorite option of the three.

"What do I...how do I?"

"Well, the only problem is going to be getting your hands on it. If you can somehow get your-"

At that moment the door burst open.

And Dronyen walked in.

* * *

Neither Kurt nor Blaine said anything. Dronyen wore a look of unmistakable smug triumph, striding into the room flanked by guards.

"Leave us," he said lazily.

The guards obediently departed, and Dronyen walked to the middle of the room, crossing his arms over his chest and looking back and forth between the two men.

"So. Boys. We've been having a fun little adventure, haven't we?" The tone was admonishing, laced with a dark mockery of affection.

"You know, I've been looking  _all over_  for you boys. And then when I finally thought I had you, you went ahead and destroyed some of my best men, and then disappeared all over again."

He chuckled, knelt in front of Kurt, and stroked his cheek gently with the back of his hand.

"But I don't mind," he continued softly, staring at Kurt. Kurt tried to look away, but Dronyen grabbed his chin roughly with the hand that wasn't stroking his cheek, and forced Kurt to look at him.

"Actually, elf, it was quite thrilling. I knew you were something special. I didn't think Anderson had it in him, but this couldn't have turned out better. I just  _knew_  that you would be the best I've ever had."

Blaine had found a loose nail in the headboard, and was attempting to work it free with his fingers. He managed to still them just before Dronyen turned toward him.

"You know, Anderson, I might just let you live," Dronyen mused, standing up and walking over to him."He had a bit of wildness to him when I bought him, after all, but after a few weeks with you I believe he's gone positively  _feral."_

Dronyen growled slightly on the last word, and gave Blaine a lecherous grin.

"Although, you really do need to work off all those lovely things you stole from me. And we'll also need to calculate a fair price for your use of the elf.  _How_ many times would you say you've used him?" Dronyen sat beside Blaine on the bed and began to stroke his leg.

Blaine was quaking with rage. He couldn't bring himself to speak, because everything he could think of to say would just end up making Dronyen even happier. His hurt, his anger, his protectiveness of Kurt, all of it would strike Dronyen as nothing more than amusing and delightful, and anything that  _didn't_  strike him as amusing and delightful was likely to make Dronyen start hurting Kurt.

Because Blaine realized that he hadn't understood Dronyen at all, not really. He had underestimated his sadism to a fatal degree.

He had thought that Dronyen would simply be enraged that Blaine had stolen from him. What Blaine hadn't realized was that Dronyen saw this as nothing more than a game. He had probably seen it that way from the very start. He may have even given them a head start, reveling in the false and innocent sense of hope that he knew they would cling to.

And Dronyen had enjoyed the game because he knew that, in the end, he would win.

Dronyen continued to stroke Blaine's leg, allowing his hand to then trail up Blaine's chest, underneath his tunic.

"So I'm sure we can think of some way for you to pay off your debt, can't we? Because to be honest, you boys are both so scrumptious, I'm not even sure where to start."

He was looking at Kurt, obviously enjoying the fear and horror in his eyes as he watched Dronyen touch Blaine.

"What do you think, elf? How about I do everything to him that I've done to you, and let you watch the show? Would you enjoy that?"

"Please don't," Kurt whispered.

Dronyen threw his head back and laughed.

Kurt gave an involuntary whimper, and he was shaking.

Blaine swallowed. "Kurt, it's all right," he said, and he wasn't sure why he said it, it was an insane thing to say, because clearly  _nothing_  could be less all right than this.

Dronyen stood up, and clapped his hands with excitement.

"Oh, you boys are  _fun."_ He walked back over to Kurt.

"So, elf, I believe we may need to establish a few things if I'm going to keep you. Now, I believe we were having a bit of trouble before you left with our first lesson. So let's get back to it, shall we?" Dronyen leaned in close to Kurt.

"Who am I to you?"

Kurt was silent.

Dronyen grabbed him around the throat.

Blaine bit his lip so hard it bled, furiously working the nail in the bed frame.

"I am your master, elf. Say it."

Kurt averted his eyes while struggling to breathe. Dronyen smiled broadly, and pulled a dagger from his belt. He held the tip to the tender underside of Kurt's chin.

"Say it, elf, or I'll slit your pretty throat."

 _"NO!"_ Blaine couldn't help but cry out.

Kurt closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He didn't speak.

Dronyen smiled again and reached out to ruffle Kurt's hair.

"Very well, then. Let's try this a different way."

Dronyen swung around to face Blaine, who quickly let his hands drop limply behind him.

He strode to the bed, and pressed the dagger to Blaine's throat.

"Killing him would mean nothing to me," Dronyen said seriously. Kurt's eyes flew open. "Now say it."

"Master," Kurt said without hesitation. "You are my master."

Dronyen roared with laughter. "I thought so."

He put the dagger back into his belt, and went to fetch something from the small table just inside the door. He returned with a syringe full of brownish green liquid.

"Now, elf, I am going to be kind. I have a proposal for you. I am going to allow you to choose to stay with me, and it is a choice you are going to make."

Kurt looked at the floor, eyes burning with hatred.

Blaine finally pulled the nail free.

"If you choose to stay with me, I will let Anderson go. I will personally see to his safe exit, and I will let him keep the carriage and horses that are rightfully mine. You'll never see him again, of course, but he will be safe."

Kurt looked back up at Dronyen, waiting for the rest of it.

"Or...I can keep Anderson instead. I will kill him eventually, humans are much more delicate stock, as I'm sure you know, but I'm sure I'll have the chance to enjoy him before it comes to that. And if I keep Anderson,  _you_  can go. I'll even see to your safe return to Faerie Country. Two hundred years from now you won't even remember him."

Dronyen smiled.

Blaine was working the nail in the keyhole of his cuffs.

Dronyen held out the syringe.

"If you take the first option, I'll even let you inject yourself."

Kurt reached for it.

"Kurt,  _no!"_ Blaine wrapped a fist around the nail and thrashed against the chains, as if that would somehow do anything besides make Dronyen laugh.

Kurt looked at him with an expression of pure misery. "Blaine," he said softly, "he's right. You wouldn't survive this."

"Kurt, he's lying! He's just trying to break your spirit, he's going to do whatever he wants! Do you honestly think he would ever free either one of us?"

"Would you like it in writing?" Asked Dronyen. "Witnesses? I'm being perfectly sincere."

Blaine worked the lock furiously.

Kurt took the syringe.

"Kurt, I'm not worth it!"

Kurt took a breath and looked deeply into his eyes.

"Blaine, yes you are. You're worth everything. I-"

And at that moment, Blaine wrenched his arms free.

Dronyen hurled around just in time for Blaine to swing a now-loosened chain toward him, and hit him squarely in the jaw with a heavy steel cuff.

Dronyen hadn't even hit the ground before Blaine was desperately trying to keep his hands from shaking as he picked the lock on the cuffs on his ankles.

Finally free of all his chains, Blaine jumped to his feet on the mattress, bracing himself momentarily against the wall when a wave of dizziness washed over him. When he felt a bit steadier he unscrewed the globe, yelping at the heat as he pulled it free and twisting around to drop it. He saw Dronyen starting to pull himself to his feet, and without thinking he hurled the globe at him, Dronyen falling to the floor again with a scream.

Blaine stared at the naked flame before him.

"Kurt, what do I do?"

"Take it and hold it in your hands."

" _What?"_

"Blaine," Kurt said urgently, as Dronyen started to stir. "Do it. You  _can_  do it. You just have to know that you can."

Blaine began to reach toward the fire, but pulled his hand back with a jerk when its proximity to the heat became too intense.

" _Blaine!"_ Kurt sounded downright desperate. "You have to know that you can. Not believe it,  _know_  it. Know it the way you know your own name."

"Kurt, I can't-"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I-"

"Well, I'm telling you the truth, Blaine, you can do it if you know that you can, the way you know that...that..."

 _The way I know that I love you,_  Blaine supplied silently.

He reached into the fire and picked it up with his hands.

Once cradled in his palms, the flame curled itself into a ball. It wasn't hot, but it was warm, and it felt like a fluttering ball of feathers.

Dronyen was getting to his feet.

"Melt my chains!" Kurt blurted.

"How-"

"Just focus your intent. See them melting. See them melting faster than you've ever seen anything melt. Faster than I did it that night in the clearing. Almost too fast to see at all."

"Kurt, I don't want to burn y-"

"Blaine! I'll be fine! Just  _do it!"_

So Blaine did.

It was amazing how it happened; the chains just softened more and more until they slid off Kurt like a slinky fabric, leaving no residue at all save for uncomfortable-looking pink marks where they had touched his skin.

Dronyen was fully alert now, blood pouring down the side of his head where the hot glass had smashed against him. He looked at Blaine and spit out some teeth.

And then he looked at the syringe on the floor.

"Blaine!" Kurt called, and held out his hands.

Blaine understood immediately. He threw the ball of fire to Kurt just as Dronyen reached the syringe and lunged for the elf.

When Kurt caught the ball, an orange glow lit up his entire body, and the syringe flew from Dronyen's hand and smashed against the far wall of the bedroom.

Dronyen looked wildly back and forth between the two men, and then pulled out his dagger and decided to charge at the obviously weaker of the two.

As if he had not offered Blaine's life in exchange for Kurt's freedom, knowing exactly what Kurt was going to choose.

As if he had not heard recounted, in vivid detail, exactly what Kurt had done to the last man that had tried to kill Blaine.

As if he stood a chance in hell of hurting the man that Kurt loved without Kurt bound in chains.

There was a slight rumbling, and a ring of fire shot up around Dronyen, the flames thin and controlled and chest-high.

And for the first time, Blaine and Kurt saw genuine fear in the man's eyes.

It suited him.

Dronyen screamed for help, and the door burst open, six guards coming to a freezing halt when they saw what was happening.

Kurt fixed the men with eyes full of blue fire.

They ran.

And then Dronyen turned to pleading.

"You – you wouldn't kill me like this, would you? Look at me- I'm pathetic. I'm helpless. I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone, I- you're better than me. You've proven it. Please, I-"

"What's my name?" Kurt asked softly.

"I...I..." Dronyen looked up at Kurt in utter defeat. "Master?" He asked tentatively.

Kurt snorted. "No, Dronyen, I'm asking you what my name is. You bought me, paid for me, tortured and raped me, tried to break me. I would at least have expected you to learn my name."

Dronyen was silent.

"What is it?" Kurt asked again, the flames closing in slightly. Dronyen was sweating profusely.

"I...I don't know," Dronyen sobbed. "Please don't kill me."

"I've killed better fleas than you."

Blaine stood quietly behind Kurt. Dronyen sought his gaze desperately.

"Blaine...please..."

Blaine simply shook his head and walked to the other side of the room.

Because he couldn't think of anyone who deserved to single-handedly decide Dronyen's fate more than Kurt.

Dronyen met Kurt's eyes. Kurt didn't look away.

"Please. I'll give you anything. Gold, horses, a castle...titles? You can both have titles! You'll be the only elf in Villalu with a title, it would be..." He swallowed. "I'll give you anything," he repeated desperately.

"Fine," Kurt said. "Give me the last five years of my life back."

And with a slight flick of a slender wrist, Dronyen was utterly consumed by the flames.


	10. Chapter 10

The fire had begun to spread. Kurt was still holding the original ball of flame in one hand, and he walked calmly over to a stunned Blaine and took his hand with the other.

"We should leave before this entire place, whatever it is, burns to the ground."

"Couldn't...couldn't you stop it?" Blaine asked.

"I could," Kurt agreed simply, leading Blaine out of the room.

Kurt's eyes were still full of blue fire. Blaine watched him silently as they walked.

No one stopped them as they wandered down the long hallway outside of the room. They were clearly in a mid-sized house of some sort, probably belonging to a common family and commandeered by Dronyen.

Blaine pulled Kurt to a stop.

"Kurt, no. This is someone's home. It could be all they have. We can't just let it burn."

Kurt didn't meet his eyes. "That someone let Dronyen use it to torture us. They probably knew exactly what he was doing, and offered up their home as a service."

"Kurt," Blaine said quietly. "Please look at me."

Kurt looked at him, eyes blinding. Blaine refused to flinch.

"This is what I am, Blaine. Do you really expect any sort of mercy from me right now?"

"Yes," Blaine said softly. "And you shouldn't feel bad about what you did to Dronyen. He would never have stopped coming after us if you had let him live."

Kurt snorted. "I'm not a human being, Blaine. Do you really think I feel the least bit-"

"Yes. I do. You're not a monster, Kurt. You're one of the most compassionate people I've ever met. Do you honestly think you won't feel terrible if you let this house burn? You won't even eat animal flesh. And the way you care about the horses..."

Kurt averted his gaze again. "Horses aren't humans, Blaine."

"No," Blaine said softly, "but I am. And...well, what if this were  _my_  home? With my children living in it? Or what if I were a servant here?"

Kurt turned back toward Blaine, the fire fading from his eyes. His lower lip was trembling.

"Blaine, you don't understand," he whispered. "With Dronyen, I...I  _enjoyed_  it. I had to make myself kill him just to stop myself from torturing him. I'm...I'm..."

"You're nothing like him."

"But what if I am? What if that's what he did to me? He didn't break me, he just poisoned me and...turned me into someone like him?"

"He didn't. You are  _nothing_  like him. I wouldn't love you if you were, and that hasn't changed. Kurt, stop the fire. Let's leave this place and find somewhere safe and then we can talk, all right?"

Kurt sighed and nodded. They walked back toward the room, and Kurt seemed to do no more than look into it before the flames stopped completely, simply winking out of existence in an single instant.

The room itself was in fairly poor repair; much of the floor and walls were charred black, and the bed linens and curtains on the windows had been reduced to singed shreds. There was also a very unpleasant-looking mound of what had clearly once been Dronyen between the bed and the far wall.

Kurt turned to Blaine, guilt rising in his eyes. Blaine kissed him.

"Let's go," Blaine said gently, and they proceeded to look for a way out of the house.

* * *

They didn't encounter anyone else until they walked out the front door, hand in hand, Kurt still clutching the ball of fire.

As they stepped out into a peach-colored sunset, Blaine's eyes widened, and he grabbed Kurt and pulled him down just in time to miss an iron chain swinging wildly in their direction.

Kurt looked up, eyes once again alight, and melted the chain in mid-air. A yelp of pain rang out from whomever had been holding it.

A smattering of Dronyen's guards stood pensively in the yard in front of them, holding an assortment of weapons.

And even through the blue fire, Blaine could tell that Kurt looked tired.

Blaine looked across at all of them, and let his voice ring out loud and clear.

"Prince Dronyen is dead. I understand your desire to avenge him, but if you try you will be killed."

"This man," Blaine continued, motioning to Kurt, "has destroyed all of His Majesty's best men, as well as the Prince himself. We are offering you exactly one opportunity to go. Go and tell King Drayez that his son is dead and we are responsible. Let him send more men after us if he will. But at least some of you have to live to carry the message, and any that don't will die tonight."

Blaine tried to catch the eye of every man he could manage. "You have five minutes to leave or you have five minutes to live. It is your choice."

He saw the men exchange looks. Part of their oath was to defend their prince to the death, but clearly that point had passed. Slowly, one by one, they departed, until only two remained.

"I am not a coward, to run cringing from a glorified peasant and a slave!" Yelled one, sword aloft.

"Nor I," called the other.

Kurt looked like he was going to cry.

"Kurt, can you get their swords away from them?" Blaine asked.

The swords abruptly flew from both men's hands, landing at Blaine's feet. He picked one up, and walked over to one of the men.

"Go," he said softly, pressing the point of the sword to the man's chest.

The man swerved to the side, then crouched and lunged at Blaine's legs in one smooth motion. Blaine allowed the man to take him down to the ground before wrenching his legs free and kicking him in the face. The man fell onto his back, and Blaine scrambled over to him, kneeling above him and placing a knee on his ribcage.

He only hesitated for the barest second before plunging the sword into the man's heart.

He pulled the sword out and swiveled around, ducking just in time to avoid the second man's lunge. The man stumbled a bit, and Blaine took the opportunity to pull the sword out of the first man's heart, thrusting forward as he sprang to his feet, the sword buried in the second man's throat.

The man spasmed, making horrible gargling and choking sounds, before finally falling beside his dead comrade.

Blaine threw the sword to the ground and walked back to Kurt, who was watching him with wide eyes.

"Now we've both killed today," Blaine said. "Shall we see if we can find our horses?"

Kurt simply nodded, and Blaine picked up the second, non-bloody sword from beside his feet. He had lost his own sword, and it would definitely be helpful to have one around.

They found the stables, and were pleased and surprised to find that their captors had indeed brought both their carriage and horses to the house. Kurt used the fire in his hand to light the headlamps, as it was close to full dark, and they prepared the horses in silence.

Blaine looked up at the sky, trying to get oriented. "So, that direction should be west...and I think we were going slightly northwest last I knew, but I'm not sure where we are right now, so..."

Kurt pointed. "That way. Home is that way."

Blaine looked at him. "How can you tell?"

Kurt smiled, and threw the fireball up into the air, the flames fanning out spectacularly before winking out of existence. "Because I can feel it."

* * *

They rode for a few hours before finding a well-secluded clearing in which to make camp. Though Drayez would most likely send men after them before long, it was unlikely that they faced any immediate danger. Drayez kept a far cooler head than Dronyen, and he would be well aware of the extent of Kurt's power and the danger it posed.

Blaine lay in the tent, eyes open, staring at the fabric ceiling above him. Kurt had been very quiet along this leg of the journey, and had curled up on the far side of the tent from Blaine. Blaine felt a tug at his heart, and he didn't want to think about what it meant.

They were getting close to Faerie country, after all. And before long, they would have to have the conversation they had been avoiding since the subject of Khryslee had first arisen.

Blaine heard a soft rustling beside him, and his heart melted as Kurt slipped into his arms, kissing his cheek and, when Blaine turned to face him, his lips.

"Blaine, thank you," Kurt whispered.

"For what?"

"For saving me from myself. For seeing what was happening inside of me when I couldn't even see it myself."

Blaine was going to deflect, and say he hadn't done that at all, but Kurt sounded so earnest, and what he was saying was true.

"You're welcome."

Kurt lay his head on Blaine's chest, stroking his clothed abdomen slowly.

"I'm sorry I was so...withdrawn after we left. I just needed some time to think."

"I understand. But I was afraid...I was afraid I was losing you."

Kurt lifted his head to kiss him again, slow and soft. "No," he said. "You're not losing me."

 _Not yet,_  Blaine thought, hating the fact that he couldn't push it away and just enjoy being with Kurt, and holding him.

Kurt settled his head back on Blaine's chest. "I don't enjoy killing, Blaine. Not really."

"I know that."

"I just...it scares me sometimes. I haven't been able to properly express my anger in years, and I haven't been able to use my power in years, and then the two just rise up together and I don't feel like I have enough control, and I...I can't stand my own cruelty."

"Kurt, you had to kill-"

"I know, Blaine, but I didn't have to enjoy it."

"Kurt, after what those men have put you through, it's only hu-" Blaine stopped himself.

Kurt laughed. "You were going to say it's only human, weren't you?"

Blaine laughed too. "Yeah. Sorry. What I meant was, I think it's only  _natural_  to feel some relief, and probably even enjoyment, in destroying those that have spent so much time and energy trying to destroy you. But it isn't who you are. And you  _will_  get your control back. You haven't even had your power back a month. And...in the meantime...I can be kind of like your anchor, Kurt, if it gets too intense. If...if you want me to be."

Blaine blushed at his own statement. Kurt gave him a squeeze.

"You already are," he said.

Blaine smiled so hard, he could have melted the sun without even trying.

Kurt snaked his hand under Blaine's tunic, and began playing idly with his chest hair.

"Those last two men, Blaine, I..."

"I know."

"I just couldn't do it any more. The violence, it was just..."

"I know," Blaine said, running his hand up and down Kurt's back.

They lay in silence for a few moments, hands continuing to gently soothe one another's bodies.

Kurt sighed happily, snuggling closer to Blaine. "I really like your chest hair," he said.

Blaine laughed. "That was a rather extreme change in topic."

He felt Kurt smile against him. "It's just something I've been meaning to mention. Earlier didn't seem like the best time. Sidhe men have very little body hair, and there's something just so... _sexy_  (Blaine could almost feel Kurt blush when he used the word) about how different it is."

"Mmmm," Blaine replied, slipping his hand under Kurt's tunic and sliding it up his bare back, "I feel the same way about your skin."

Kurt sat up slightly, moving to kiss Blaine's ear. "I like your ears too. They're so cute and round."

Blaine leaned over to kiss Kurt's ear as well. "I  _love_  your ears," he whispered. "They drive me wild." He took the tip of Kurt's ear into his mouth and sucked gently. Kurt moaned.

"Blaine? How tired are you?"

"If you're asking for the reason I hope you're asking for, not tired at all."

Kurt gently pulled away from Blaine, and began crawling toward the entrance to the tent.

"Get undressed," Kurt said. "I'll be right back."

When Kurt returned to the tent a few moments later holding two large red flowers with spiral tips, he paused in the entryway. Blaine was lying on top of the blankets, eyes closed, naked and stretched out. His arms were bent, his hands were underneath his head, and a soft beam of moonlight fell across him from the open flap of the entryway.

He was simply stunning.

He opened his eyes and smiled up at Kurt. "What are you doing?" He asked softly.

"Just looking at you." Kurt sighed, and though he was smiling too, it was tinged slightly with sadness.

Kurt joined Blaine on the blankets, undressing himself along the way. They pressed their bodies together, savoring the differences in build, texture and scent, letting their hands roam freely.

Kurt unfurled the tip of one of the flowers, and dribbled a bit on his tongue. Before Blaine could so much as form a full smile, Kurt's head was between his legs and he had taken him in his mouth.

Blaine squeezed his eyes shut against the forceful wave of pleasure that shot through him. Kurt began to move up and down Blaine's shaft, his long, slender tongue winding around him with far too much talent for Blaine to bear.

"Oh,  _God,_  Kurt," he managed to choke, lacing his fingers through Kurt's silky hair.

Kurt continued to do amazing things with his mouth, one of his hands cupping Blaine's testicles and squeezing gently. He then let his hand wander backward, very tentatively, brushing lightly between Blaine's cheeks.

Correctly reading Kurt's hesitation, Blaine spread his thighs. "G-go ahead, Kurt, if you want to," he gasped.

Kurt dipped his fingers into the flower and let them trail slowly from behind Blaine's testicles to his entrance, grazing across it lightly and then trailing his fingertips back to massage it with added pressure.

Blaine gave a small scream of pleasure, writhing at the feel of Kurt's graceful fingers, intensified by the oil.

"Kurt...I'm close...I..."

Kurt pulled both his mouth and hand away, and looked at Blaine nervously.

"Blaine, do you think I could try...I mean, would it be all right if..." his eyes darted down to Blaine's oil-slicked ass.

Blaine smiled. "I would  _love_  that, Kurt," he said.

"It's just that I've never...I don't want to make a mistake, or hurt you."

"Just follow your instincts, Kurt. I'll help talk you through it."

Kurt bent his fingers to that they were completely submerged in the liquid inside the flower, then lifted them and moved them to Blaine's entrance. The oil was dripping everywhere, little patches of tingling sensation blooming all across their flesh where it landed.

Kurt eased a finger inside of Blaine, and Blaine threw his head back and whimpered.

"All right, so j-just hold it still for a minute, Kurt, it's b-been awhile," he breathed.

Kurt did as Blaine asked, using his free hand to stroke the insides of Blaine's thighs until they were gleaming with oil.

Letting out a breathy moan at the magnified feel of Kurt's soft skin against his inner thighs, Blaine attempted speech once again.

"Y-you can start to m-move it a bit, now. S-sort of in and out and a-around and... _oh,_  yeah, Kurt, j-just like that, that f-feels  _so good..."_

Kurt watched in fascination as Blaine's eyes rolled back in his head and he writhed beneath him.

"Y-you can add an-nother one now..."

Kurt did, surprised at how good it felt just to have his fingers inside Blaine. He moved them in the way it seemed like Blaine had for him, slowly stretching.

"Blaine, how do I find that spot that feels so nice?"

Blaine was panting. He swallowed hard, speaking slowly and deliberately, as if only remembering how to speak with each individual word and instantly forgetting afterward. "C-crook your f-fingers to the f-front a bit, and sort of f-feel it out...you'll find th-this little –  _KURT! NNGGHH! OH...OH..."_

Kurt gasped at the sheer magnitude of Blaine's reaction. Well, he'd found it. That much was clear.

Blaine was bucking against him, giving cries of pleasure, and Kurt was finding himself so turned on that he could barely even see.

"Blaine, do you feel ready for me to-"

"Yes!  _Please!_  Now!"

Kurt drizzled himself with oil from the flower, coating himself evenly with a few strokes. He positioned himself in front of Blaine, and slowly pushed into Blaine's tight heat.

Kurt gave a whimper at the sheer impact of pleasure that seized his body when he slid inside of Blaine. Blaine wrapped his legs around Kurt's waist, pulling himself closer to get better leverage. Kurt sank down on his knees a bit more, pulling Blaine so that his lower back was resting on Kurt's thighs.

When Kurt leaned forward to kiss Blaine, they both moaned deeply at the involuntary thrust the movement created, burying Kurt even more deeply inside of Blaine.

"You feel so incredible," Kurt whispered against Blaine's lips.

"So do you," answered Blaine. "I never want you to stop being inside of me."

Kurt kissed him again, and then moved back up, so he was leaning over Blaine. He held Blaine's hips and began to thrust slowly, shivering and moaning as his body tried to process the sheer volume of pleasure Blaine's body was giving him.

And Blaine was overwhelmed by it too – surely part of it was that magical flower and all it offered, but Blaine was sure he'd never been with a man who's body simply seemed to  _fit_  so perfectly inside of his before. He felt like he'd been born for Kurt to make love to him. Kurt may never have done this before, but he was certainly a quick study – sliding over  _"that spot that feels so nice",_  pulling almost completely out before sliding back in to the hilt, his pace building steadily and his thrusts getting harder all the time.

Kurt wasn't thinking. He had simply let his body take over, and it seemed to know exactly what to do. He didn't even realize how much harder he was thrusting and how much faster he was moving, but he did realize how much more loudly Blaine was wailing and how much more fiercely he was writhing.

He also realized that his eyes had squeezed shut, and he forced them open, unable to believe that he was giving up a chance to watch this gorgeous naked man completely unravel beneath him. He noticed that Blaine was reaching for the flower, and Kurt stilled his hips momentarily and beat him to it, snatching up the flower and drizzling Blaine's cock. Kurt began stroking Blaine as he resumed pumping into his body, trying to do both in perfect rhythm, but having to settle for a slightly erratic one.

The erratic rhythm seemed just fine with Blaine.

Blaine had begun chanting Kurt's name raggedly, his eyes glazed over, looking like he was in a trance. His chest and forehead glistened with sweat. Kurt felt drunk on the sight and the feel of Blaine clenched around him. He began to pump Blaine faster with his hand, feeling Blaine start to tense beneath him, until Blaine threw his head back and screamed, coming spectacularly across his chest and stomach.

And when Blaine came, his muscles clenched around Kurt while he watched it happen, and it was the best thing that Kurt had ever felt or seen in his life, and he came too, calling out Blaine's name, desperately fighting back the urge to scream I Love You.

Kurt collapsed onto Blaine, both of them panting, their bodies a mess of sweat and skin and oil and come.

"I love you," Blaine whispered into Kurt's ear, because he could. Because he was brave. Because he had nothing to lose by saying it.

Kurt managed not to cry.

And instead of answering Blaine, he reacted in his usual way. He kissed him.

"Come on," Kurt said. "Let's wash."

"How? There's nothing to bathe in here." The clearing they'd found had no creek or pond of any sort.

Kurt kissed Blaine on the nose. "Have you forgotten who you're here with? Come on."

He eased himself out of Blaine's body, rose unsteadily to his knees, and crawled over to his satchel, pulling out a cake of soap. He then helped Blaine to his feet and led him outside. They walked to the middle of the clearing, naked under the open sky.

Blaine felt a warm drop on his shoulder and, startled, looked up.

It was raining, but only on them. Kurt had produced a slender column of warm rain around them, rinsing them clean. They washed each other and then walked back to the tent, drying themselves halfheartedly with clean cloths before collapsing back onto their decidedly less clean nest of blankets.

"We should really wash some of our things tomorrow," Blaine murmured, fingers twining through Kurt's damp hair.

"Mmmm," Kurt agreed. "But let's take them to a washerwoman, shall we? I'm sick of hand-washing, and we should be arriving at the first of the border towns tomorrow."

There was an undeniable air of excitement in the last part of his statement.

The border towns.

Blaine felt his stomach clench.

Kurt sighed and held Blaine tight, pressing one last kiss to his chest before drifting off to sleep.

Blaine stared at the fabric ceiling of the tent.

And he barely slept at all.


	11. Chapter 11

Most of the border towns were in fact rebel cities, walled and heavily guarded against unwanted intrusion from the outside world.

"Blaine, you may notice a...shift in how people regard us when we get to S'aufa," Kurt said, indicating the first city that they planned to journey through.

"Slavery is outlawed, right?" Blaine asked excitedly, placing a gentle hand on Kurt's back as they rode through the countryside. The climate and landscape had been changing subtly as they moved ever west, and it was suddenly becoming much more noticeable. The air was moister, the plant life lusher, the grass and mosses a more vivid green.

It was finally starting to feel like they were somewhere  _different_ than the Villalu that Blaine had always known.

"Slavery is outlawed, yes, which they can do because S'aufa considers itself to be its own republic apart from Villalu. Though I am sure that Drayez would beg to differ."

Blaine smiled. "It will be nice...not having to pretend," he said, nuzzling his head into the crook of Kurt's neck. Kurt leaned his head into Blaine affectionately.

"Yes it will. But Blaine, you should...well, just make sure you stay close by me, all right?"

"That won't be a problem," Blaine murmured, shifting his head slightly to kiss Kurt's neck.

Kurt laughed softly. "Well, not just for the usual reason. I think you'll find that there might be a bit of a shift in how others...approach us."

Blaine moved his head off of Kurt's shoulder and looked at him. "Kurt, what are you trying to say?"

Kurt sighed. "Well, Blaine, things are a bit different in the border towns. Most humans who live in them have...something of an attachment to the Sidhe."

Blaine smirked slightly and his eyes twinkled like he was repressing a slightly lewd comment, but he quietly waited for Kurt to continue.

Kurt glanced at Blaine, looking slightly uncomfortable about what he was going to say.

"There is...it's not exactly slavery. But there are many Sidhe who like to keep humans as, well, pets. Playthings. Some even like to keep a collection. It isn't tolerated in the feririars or in Khryslee, but it is very much the normal way of things in the border towns."

Blaine shrugged. "Well, I suppose if the humans  _choose_  it..."

Kurt shook his head. "They do keep a kernel of free will. A kernel. But many Sidhe are gifted with the ability to compel others, especially creatures like humans, to do as they wish and believe it is their own true desire. And even those who don't possess the power naturally can purchase it easily enough on the black market."

Blaine was staring at Kurt in shock. "Kurt, can  _you..._ "

"No. I can't compel, and I wouldn't want to."

"I didn't know that Sidhe power can differ from one person to the next."

Kurt laughed so bitterly that it was startling. "It varies quite a bit, Blaine."

"So...does that mean we should pretend that I'm your..um...pet?" Blaine asked.

"No. We're fine just being..." Kurt searched for the word to describe what it was they were.

"Ourselves together," he finally settled on. "But you're quite a bit lovelier than I think you realize, and I wouldn't want some less noble sort of elf to compel you to him."

Blaine flushed at the compliment. "Kurt, if I'm left with even a kernel of free will, no one could take me from you."

Kurt smiled. "That's very pretty, Blaine, but I don't think you really understand. Just please stay close to me."

Blaine leaned into him, slinging his arm across Kurt's shoulders and kissing him on the cheek.

"Like I said, Kurt, that really won't be a problem."

* * *

Kurt wanted to stop at the first of the ruins, near the gates to S'aufa.

He stepped down from the carriage and moved to the overgrown remains of the crumbling statue, tracing it gently with his fingers and looking at it with a mixture of reverence and deep sadness. He said a word in his Elfin tongue that Blaine couldn't have spoken if his life depended on it.

"What's that?" Blaine asked, approaching Kurt from behind.

Kurt repeated the word he had spoken, and then looked at Blaine and clarified, "Sacred weaver of blossoms. Guardian of trees. This was a shrine to her, but now..." Kurt sighed. He placed his hand on a tangle of vines covering the remains, and tiny purple flowers popped up one by one.

"An offering," he explained to Blaine.

Blaine watched him with a furrowed brow. Something was tugging at the edges of his memory, but he couldn't quite place it.

"This...this is a Sidhe god?" He asked. Kurt nodded.

"But it's in Villalu."

"There are free Sidhe in Villalu. Not nearly as many now as there once were, but this is the ancestral home to many feririars, and some choose to stay, no matter the danger."

Blaine moved closer to the statue's remains, trying desperately to clutch at the elusive familiarity of it.

"I know. I've seen...well, there was that one Sidhe I saw back in N'auri, and my Grandmother said..."

Blaine tilted his head. "Kurt, do...did humans ever worship Sidhe gods?"

"I believe so," Kurt responded. "I'm afraid I don't know as much as I should about human history, but I know...things used to be different than they are now."

"Is there a god...um...his name is something like Kraaflechgreja?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Pardon me?"

Blaine looked sheepish. "Yeah, um, he was...blessed something...I think it had to do with shells, or carpets, or...sand?"

Kurt continued to look at him in baffled amazement before a dawning look of comprehension spread over his face and he burst out laughing. Blaine blushed and looked at his feet, embarrassed.

"Blaine, is it-"

The word Kurt spoke was unpronounceable, as always, though Kraaflechgreja  _did_  sound like the closest possible Villaluan approximation. Kurt looked at Blaine with questioning eyes.

"Blessed guardian of the sands that carpet the world?" He added.

"Yeah! Yes, that's it!" Blaine was excited. "I think...I think my grandmother took me to a ceremony, or a ritual, or  _something_  for him once. I don't remember that much about it, I was so little, but people brought flowers..."

"Lilies," Kurt supplied. Blaine's eyes widened at this freshly unearthed detail.  _"Yeah!_ And...shells?"

"Bivalves, still connected by their ligaments."

Blaine gave a victorious-sounding yell and hugged Kurt enthusiastically.

" _Kurt!_  I can't believe I forgot! It was...I remember it was supposed to be a secret. She would talk to me about Kraa- well, you know,  _him,_  and we'd collect shells and pick lilies, and we'd leave honeysuckle out so that the forest Sidhe would bless our home, and we-"

Suddenly Blaine froze.

"Oh, God," he whispered.

Because something had hit him that wasn't exactly a memory. It was one of those cognitive experiences that start out as a memory from deep in childhood, but then the cracks in comprehension are filled in by lessons learned with age.

His grandmother had been murdered during a raid on his village. This raid had been a bit different than the others, though. The people had a figure – it was supposed to look like a person – no, it was supposed to look like a  _Sidhe_  – but it was really sort of like a scarecrow – slung up high in a tree. It wore a crown of lilies and a chestpiece of shells. There had been a lot of yelling, and the people had burned it, and his mother had taken him into the cellar to hide. The next day, his grandmother was dead, along with several others, mostly very old.

All the people they killed had been at the ceremony with Blaine and his grandmother.

His mother had told him never to speak of the sand god again.

And he never had. Until that day with Kurt, at the crumbling ruins outside the rebel city, near the western border of Villalu.

Blaine fell to his knees.

Kurt crouched down beside him, startled.

"Blaine...what is it?"

Blaine swallowed. "Let's...let's just get out of Villalu," he said shakily.

* * *

S'aufa was less difficult to gain entry to than Blaine had imagined. They presented themselves at the city gates, and then it was a simple matter of Kurt demonstrating that his powers were not being suppressed and he was not Blaine's slave before they were admitted past the first gate. Their carriage was thoroughly searched before moving through to the second gate, and they were asked for payment at the third. Blaine began to reach for his purse, but Kurt smiled and shook his head, taking the glass jar and candle that the guard handed him.

He scooped the flame from the candle into his hand, then stretched and shaped it into a squirming ball. He then rolled it into a thin tendril, and poured it into the jar as if it were liquid. Kurt stoppered the jar and handed it back to the man. The Guard bowed in thanks, and opened the final gate, admitting them to the rebel city of S'aufa, the easternmost of the border towns.

"What was  _that_?" Blaine asked, when they had ridden out of earshot of the guard.

"They prefer to be paid in magics. Much higher market value. Unaccompanied humans trying to gain passage to Khryslee will practically sell limbs to get them."

Blaine stared at him. There was clearly still much that he didn't understand.

Reading his confusion, Kurt continued. "The Faerie lands are protected by very strong and very old magics, Blaine. A human being cannot simply stroll in. They can't even barge or force their way in. The simplest way by far to gain entrance is to be led through by a Sidhe. If that is not an option, a fresh bottle of essence, such as what I just provided for our friend at the gate, will usually get one through, but only if the Sidhe that provides it is powerful enough. The third option involves complicated spellwork, which takes years to learn, and is more likely to kill the human that tries it than actually penetrate the barrier."

"Wow," Blaine murmured. It was starting to dawn on him that they were now in territory that Kurt understood and he did not, and that somehow their roles had reversed. He felt utterly dependent on Kurt, and the feeling both thrilled and terrified him.

As they rode into the city, Blaine simply couldn't stop staring. He had never seen any place like it before, and he caught himself begging Kurt to slow down so he wouldn't miss a thing.

The houses were a strange hodgepodge of traditional Villaluan stone-and-wood constructions and structures that looked almost like giant mounds of leaves, grass, moss and flowers. The mounds were dotted with windows and doors that looked like completely organic and naturally occurring portals, and the only feature making the dwellings look like anything other than bizarre natural phenomena were the neatly stacked stone chimneys emerging from their centers.

"Kurt! Are those...Sidhe houses? Did you use to live in a house like that? What are those bushes out front? Are those...Oh my God, those are our flowers! Growing right out front like that where everyone can see them! Do people realize...I...wait, what do those houses look like inside? Are they really made of plants? Is there regular furniture, or is it...kind of grown out of the ground, like the houses are? Oh my God, what is _that?"_

Kurt laughed with joy at Blaine's pure bubbling childlike wonder. The thing Blaine seemed most dumbfounded by was what looked like a dragonfly the size of a small goat, dozing in a patch of sunlight on top of one of the Sidhe houses. The sight made Kurt's heart lurch suddenly.

It looked almost like home.

"Yes, Blaine, those are Sidhe homes. No, the...structure I grew up in was a bit different, but there were many houses like these in my ancestral lands. Yes, those are our flowers, and yes, it is well known what they are for. There is much less sexual shame in Sidhe culture than there is amongst humans in Villalu. The dwellings  _are_ made of living plant matter. The furniture inside is a mixture. Some of it is crafted and some of it is grown with magics. And that is a (Sidhe word that Blaine couldn't pronounce). I think the Western Villaluans call them Grimchins, but they rarely cross into human lands. That one is probably a pet."

Kurt had never been to S'aufa, but he had visited several border towns as a young Sidhe, and there was a certain consistency to their arrangement. They provided, at first glance, a glimpse into a perfectly melded Sidhe and human world.

But this town, like the others, was definitely not Khryslee. The air of amicable tolerance and coexistence was tainted by the flesh trade and the black market. There were humans so desperate to gain passage to Khryslee that they were willing to do literally anything to get there, and there were Sidhe who had been expelled from their feririars and cast from their ancestral lands for immoral uses of power.

The human governments of the rebel cities gave tacit permission for their Sidhe residents to indulge their power, no matter how unsettling the manifestation, because these Sidhe also used their power to reinforce the city walls and keep them safe from the rest of Villalu.

But on the surface S'aufa, like all the border towns, was quaint and peaceful and beautiful.

Kurt sought out the sort of place that he knew would bring Blaine pleasure. They pulled up in front of a Sidhe-run inn, allowing a small slip of an elfin boy to lead their horses toward the stable.

Blaine watched, captivated, as the youth bounded off.

"I've never seen a Sidhe child before," he mused. "How old do you think he is?"

Kurt glanced back at the boy. "Probably no more than twenty," he said.

Blaine stared at him, open-mouthed.  _"Twenty?_  Kurt, that's how old  _I_  am! How...how old are  _you?"_

"Well, I was fifty-seven when I went on my soul-walk, so probably...sixty-two?"

Blaine was stunned. "But you...you look so  _young._ "

"I  _am_ young, Blaine. I'm less than a century old."

Blaine did not want to ask the question. If he asked the question, he would have to think about what it meant. He would have to think about how much more complicated it made things than they already were. He would have to start truly facing the inevitable truth.

He asked the question.

"How long do Sidhe usually live, Kurt?"

Kurt looked away. "A long time," he said.

Kurt turned back to Blaine and pulled him close, kissing him deeply, and hoping he could kiss that expression away. That expression of fear and sadness and longing and ebbing denial.

 _Stay with me in this moment,_  Kurt thought desperately.  _Stay with me._

He did not want Blaine to get tangled in thoughts of how different they were, how if Blaine's life was like that of a flower – short and delicate and intense, Kurt's was like that of a tree – slow and strong and enduring.

Incompatible.

But the very goddess that was weaver of blossoms was also guardian of trees.

They fit together.

Kurt almost told him that he loved him.

When he pulled back, Blaine smiled at him, but his eyes were still forlorn.

"It's nice that we can do that out in the open, without fear, isn't it?" Kurt asked softly, stroking his cheek.

Blaine nodded. "It is."

Kurt took his hand and tugged him forward. "Come on, I chose this place because I knew how much you would like it. You'll never want to stay at a human-run inn again!"

Of that Kurt was absolutely correct, and Blaine allowed himself to be temporarily placated by the whimsical beauty of their lodgings. The inn was really a grouping of mounds similar to the ones Blaine had seen on his way into town, only smaller. There was a large main house where the innkeeper lived; an ageless-looking Sidhe woman who conversed rapidly with Kurt in language that sounded like music. She led Kurt and Blaine to one of the mounds and showed them inside.

Inside, sunlight seemed to glow through the leaves and moss that covered the rounded ceiling and walls. It was a single-room dwelling, simply furnished, some of the blossoms on the wall emitting a lovely golden glow. Blaine saw a table and chairs, the table resembling wicker and seeming to grow directly out of the ground. The floor was carpeted with impossibly soft and smooth moss, and the entire room smelled like a flower garden.

Blaine furrowed his brow. He saw folded blankets, but... "Kurt...where is the bed?"

Kurt smiled. "Aah, but that's the best part. Come here."

Kurt led him to a corner of the room where the moss seemed to be of a different texture and consistency than the rest of the floor. Kurt lowered himself onto his knees, bringing Blaine with him.

They sank into the most luxurious cloud of comfort that Blaine had ever felt in his life. The moss seemed to form a deep bed, hugging the contours of Blaine's body and radiating a slight warmth that soothed the aches in his body from weeks of hard riding.

Blaine let out a deep sigh.

His fingers were laced with Kurt's and they lay there in silence, drinking in the comfort and sense of safety around them.

And in the silence, Blaine couldn't help but let the questions in.

It had been a little over a month since he had first laid eyes on Kurt.

And it had been well over a decade since he'd last laid eyes on his grandmother.

He wondered if Kurt would suddenly be reminded of his flash of time with Blaine, centuries from now, the way Blaine had suddenly dredged up the long-buried memory of his grandmother's sand god.

He wondered how long it would take Kurt to start to forget him.

He wondered how strong the emotion would be if he chanced to remember him.

He wondered if he would remember him at all.

Kurt began pressing soft kisses to Blaine's neck. Blaine turned to him and kissed him fiercely, willing him to remember Blaine's body, his skin, his touch, the passion between them.

And this time when they made love, it was Blaine who cried.


	12. Chapter 12

On their first morning in S'aufa, much to Blaine's surprise and delight, Kurt showed him another feature of the little plant-mound inn where they were staying. Each of the mounds had a path behind it, all of the paths leading into different areas of a thickly wooded grove.

Their path brought them to the most delightful thing Blaine had ever seen. It seemed too impeccably constructed to have simply occurred in nature, but too natural and perfect to have been crafted by human hands.

It was a small pond in a little clearing, the growth surrounding the clearing especially dense, creating a sense of complete privacy. The far side of the pond was fed by a lightly trickling waterfall, cascading down gently sloping rocks. The source that fed the waterfall was too high to see, and the rocky slope was dotted with shrubs and flowers. Including large red flowers with tight, closed petals that spiraled to a point.

Blaine laughed when he saw them.

"God, there's no pretense at all, is there?"

Kurt laughed. "Absolutely none."

The pond itself was crystal-clear and, when Blaine dipped a hand into it, he found it to be a very pleasant temperature.

The only feature that looked out of place in the clearing was what appeared to be an oiled wooden wardrobe nestled between two trees. Inside of the wardrobe they found everything they could desire for bathing, as well as clean, soft robes.

They each undressed and chose some things from the wardrobe, and then walked over to the pond and slipped in. The water reached Kurt's stomach and Blaine's midriff. The bottom of the pond was carpeted with soft sand.

_The sands that carpet the world._

Blaine forced away the flush of sadness that came over him. Now was not the time to give himself over to pining. Not when they were in a beautiful place like this. Not when Kurt was looking at him like  _that._

"Blaine," Kurt said softly, "I think you need a shave."

The tone Kurt used was so tender, his eyes so soft with longing, that Blaine couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm serious," Kurt continued. He was holding a small wooden bowl with some cream-colored powder at the bottom. He dipped the bowl into the water slightly, and then stirred the mixture with a brush he had set on the bank, forming a rich lather.

"Hold still," Kurt murmured, still looking at him with those  _make love to me_  eyes, and began applying the lather to Blaine's face and throat. He gently lifted a straight razor from the bank, and unfolded it.

"May I?" Kurt asked. Blaine smiled and nodded.

Kurt shaved Blaine slowly and carefully with steady hands. His eyes were intensely focused, but there was something so, so soft in them too. Blaine was struck by the strange intimacy of the action; it was such a personal thing to do, and his throat was so tender and exposed, and he just trusted Kurt completely.

When he had finished, Kurt ran his hands over Blaine's smooth face, and leaned in for a gentle kiss.

"Much nicer," he sighed. "I was starting to get scratch marks on my thighs."

Blaine blushed slightly. "Sorry," he muttered. "I'd offer to return the favor, but you never seem to need it."

Kurt rubbed his own chin and sighed. "No, Sidhe men rarely grow beards, especially not at my age. I do find them...intriguing, but I think I prefer you with a smooth face." Kurt ran the back of his hand across Blaine's cheek, gazing at him fondly. "I like being able to see every last bit of it."

Blaine caught the hand in his own and kissed Kurt on the palm.

"I like being able to see every last bit of  _you,_ " he returned. "Have I told you how unbelievably gorgeous you are?"

Kurt flushed a radiant rose pink across his pale skin. "Yes, Blaine. But that doesn't mean you need to stop."

Blaine pulled Kurt tight against him and kissed him hard. When he pulled back, he proceeded to cover Kurt's neck, shoulders and chest in kisses, pausing between them to breathe "gorgeous," and "beautiful," and "immaculate," and "perfect." Kurt allowed Blaine to walk him backward until he was against the moss-covered rocks, the trickling waterfall cascading gently down Blaine's back.

The water was shallower here, reaching Blaine's thighs, the spray from the waterfall misting over them. Kurt pulled Blaine to him, kissing him roughly, and Blaine pressed him into the rocks, the damp softness of the moss sliding comfortably behind him as they rocked together.

They felt something different building between them; the softness was being replaced by a rawness and an urgency, as if anything too tentative or gentle might make them disintegrate.

They grabbed at one another desperately, and Kurt found himself sliding his mouth to the spot where Blaine's neck and shoulder met, and biting down. Blaine gave a rough cry, grabbing Kurt behind one knee and lifting his leg, grinding into him hard.

Kurt's hand flew back and groped blindly behind him, coming back with two large red flowers. Not even bothering to unfurl them, he thrust them between Blaine's chest and his own, crushing them, smearing the oil and petals across their bodies, feeling it drip down to their groins and thighs. Kurt rubbed Blaine's oil-slicked nipples with his thumbs, and Blaine jerked against him with a scream.

"Gods, Blaine, I want you inside me," Kurt gasped, and Blaine responded by locating the branch growing out of the rocks from which Kurt had torn the first two flowers, and plucking a third.

As little in the mood for delicacy as Kurt seemed to be, Blaine crushed the flower between his hands, soaking his fingers and palms with tingling sensitivity. Using one hand to rub his length together with Kurt's, he moved the other to Kurt's entrance, stretching as slowly and gently as he possibly could, given the fact that he was literally  _shaking_  with need.

Blaine's ministrations were abruptly halted when Kurt pulled both hands away and stared at him hard with dark, hungry eyes. Kurt placed his hands firmly on Blaine's shoulders.

"Catch me," he ordered huskily, using Blaine's shoulders as leverage to jump up and wrap his legs around Blaine's waist.

Blaine caught him around the thighs, pressing Kurt up and back against the rocks and thrusting up into him while letting him drop slightly, burying himself deep inside.

Kurt screamed his pleasure, heels digging into Blaine's ribs, his head thrown back against the moss-covered rocks.

There was almost  _too_  much sensation. Every part of them that touched seemed to be dripping with oil from the flowers, sliding against and inside of one another, every nerve ending blazing, and all they wanted was  _more._

Blaine's brain had completely short-circuited, which is probably why he didn't stop himself from whispering urgently into Kurt's ear,

"Don't forget me. Please don't ever forget me."

"Never," Kurt gasped out. "I could  _never_  forget you. Gods, Blaine,  _harder,_ please!"

Blaine began thrusting harder, very nearly  _slamming_  up into Kurt with the kind of raw passion he'd been almost afraid of, not wanting to hurt him, not wanting to make him feel like this was anything other than an act of love.

But it didn't feel  _other_  than an act of love; it simply felt like there was more layered on top of it. Need, and desperation, and the unspoken understanding that  _now_  was all that existed, because now could be all that they had.

Blaine squeezed Kurt's trembling thighs, pounding into him and panting out nonsensical attempts at verbal expression, as Kurt let his head roll back, eyes half-closed and utterly unfocused, groaning in pleasure and belting out strings of what somehow struck Blaine as Elfin expletives.

And then Kurt shuddered with intensity and came without a touch from Blaine's hands.

And Blaine felt it, saw it, and then lost himself completely with one last hard, slow thrust, sliding Kurt up the rocks farther than he'd thought strictly possible.

Panting hard, Blaine leaned against Kurt, touching their foreheads together. They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped tightly together, before Blaine pulled out of Kurt and eased him back down to his feet.

Blaine reached a hand to Kurt's stomach, to coat his fingers in a slick mixture of Kurt's ambrosia, flower oil, petals and sweat. To Blaine's surprise, Kurt reached a hand to Blaine's stomach to do the same. They didn't break eye contact as they tasted.

"That was...intense," Blaine finally ventured, after he'd licked his fingers clean.

Kurt nodded, smiling. "I liked it," he said, almost timidly. "Quite a bit, actually."

"It wasn't too...rough for you?" Blaine asked, his gaze darting away from Kurt.

"It was what I wanted, Blaine. Was it what  _you_ wanted?"

Blaine looked back up at him. "Yes."

"Good," Kurt said, touching Blaine's cheek.

They moved back into the deeper water so that they could bathe properly, reveling in the delicate luxury of the elf-made soaps and lotions.

And then they fell asleep in the soft grass beneath the afternoon sun, naked and intertwined beneath the open sky, knowing that they were safe.

* * *

They stayed in S'aufa for almost two weeks.

Kurt did long to see his feririar again, and he knew that he was needed at home. The possibility of Drayez's men finding them in one of the stretches between border towns and the border itself still loomed. They still weren't sure that Blaine would even be accepted into Khryslee, and where he could go if he wasn't.

But they couldn't help but surrender to what the walled city represented for them.

_Sanctuary._

Kurt knew that the safety they felt here was very much temporary and somewhat imperfect, but as long as Blaine stayed close to him it was also quite real. For the first time since fleeing Villalu Proper, they could simply relax.

And, then, of course, there was Blaine.

He had seemed so sad since discovering how ill-suited his own lifespan was to Kurt's. And when Kurt saw this, he realized that some part of Blaine had really believed that Kurt would go and live with him in Khryslee.

And then there was that moment, the day after they had arrived and they were making love – or, to be more accurate,  _fucking desperately,_ when Blaine had begged Kurt not to forget him.

It broke his heart.

So Kurt had decided that they deserved this, that  _Blaine_  deserved this, to just step outside of time for a bit, to live a handful of days in which all they had to do was bathe and feast and make love and play music and walk hand in hand exploring a beautiful new city. They still had plenty of money, and once they crossed into the Faerie Lands it would cease to have value, so they simply indulged.

There was a particular cafe that Blaine and Kurt both very much enjoyed; there were menus for the human patrons, and the tables were set amongst lush gardens. The Sidhe patrons were given baskets to fill with what leaves, flowers, grasses and fruits they chose from the bounty that grew around them.

Kurt never tired of the honeysuckle, and Blaine tried a new kind of cheese each day.

There was an amphitheater where human and Sidhe musicians would perform, and Kurt and Blaine attended the performances nearly every night. They also played together in their little leaf-mound and in the clearing around their private pond, Kurt on his pipes and Blaine on his lute. Once Kurt even put down his pipes and sang while Blaine played, his voice so lovely and pure and honest that it moved Blaine to tears.

They bought beautiful and useless things at the open-air markets, adorning one another with blushes and shy smiles. Blaine picked out a brooch for Kurt, delicate tendrils of bronze wrapped around blue and green stones that reminded him of Kurt's eyes. Kurt selected a pendant for Blaine, a beautiful gold-green stone on a silver chain that matched  _his_  eyes. He slipped it onto his neck and kissed him tenderly, in the middle of the busy marketplace, in front of everyone.

Blaine was in heaven.

He did notice some Sidhe walking with an excessively adoring human or two in tow, but it was hard to think of these humans as the victims of exploitation or coercion. They looked so  _happy_ , though perhaps he did have to overlook the slightly glazed looks in their eyes to see it.

Kurt was clearly wary of the other Sidhe. While he did seem to take some pleasure in being around others of his own kind, he clearly preferred to keep his distance from these city Sidhe. He gripped Blaine's hand tightly whenever they were in public, his eyes trained nervously on the crowd around them, fixing those whose gaze lingered on Blaine with a possessive glare.

* * *

It wasn't until the end of their stay that Kurt was directly approached by another Sidhe on the subject of Blaine. They were at their favorite cafe, when a male Sidhe broke away from his table of fawning humans to stroll over to them. He was taller than Kurt, and clearly older as well, his blonde hair pulled back into a short braid that was tied off at the nape of his neck. He was attractive, as were all Sidhe (at least as far as Blaine was concerned), but not nearly as beautiful as Kurt. He licked his lips openly as he looked at Blaine and addressed Kurt.

"Charmed," he said to Kurt in a lazy drawl, speaking Valliluan as was standard practice amongst Sidhe in S'aufa.

Kurt forced a tight, insincere smile in return. "Yes, hello. Enjoying your meal?"

"Mmmm, not bad. A bit weary with the company, though. You have a lovely boy. Do you ever rent him out?"

Blaine's jaw dropped.

"No," Kurt said forcefully. "And he's not mine. He's here of his own free will."

The older Sidhe laughed musically. "Shame. He looks delicious. But if you're not using him..."

The Sidhe stepped closer to Blaine, cupping his chin and leaning his face closer to his. He looked into Blaine's eyes.

And suddenly Blaine wondered why he hadn't realized just how beautiful this man really  _was._  He was at least as beautiful as Kurt. And Blaine could just sense his kindness, his  _goodness_  as well. Blaine felt his heart swell with emotion.

Was it possible to be in love with two people at the same time?

No. He loved Kurt. He wanted Kurt.

But Kurt didn't love him. And Kurt probably wasn't going to stay with him. This Sidhe on the other hand, he lived in S'aufa, and Blaine very much liked S'aufa. Blaine could stay with him in S'aufa and he would never leave Blaine, because he hadn't left the other humans that were with him at the cafe, and they all looked so  _happy..._

Blaine was jarred halfway out of his reverie by the sound of angry voices in Elfin tongue. Kurt and the new Sidhe were standing and facing one another, and they were alternately gesturing to Blaine and seeming about to come to blows. Kurt's eyes were blazing with blue fire, and the new Sidhe's eyes were blazing gold. The man turned to Blaine, began to advance toward him once again, and Blaine smiled fondly.

Kurt grabbed the other Sidhe's arm and yanked him roughly away from Blaine. His grip seemed to pulse with blue, and his eyes flashed like lightning.

The stranger's eyes widened.

With fear.

"Y-you-" he stuttered in Villaluan.

Kurt responded harshly in their native language, seeming desperate not to communicate so that Blaine could understand them.

"What...what are  _you_  doing here? With a  _human?_ " The other Sidhe sounded shocked.

Kurt admonished the man in the Elfin tongue again, releasing his arm.

"I...I didn't know," the older Sidhe said weakly. He stumbled backward a bit, then looked at Blaine briefly and Blaine felt his stomach drop, the haze of pseudo-love dissolving instantly.

What the hell had just happened?

The Sidhe hastily made his way back to his own table, his eyes darting back to them furtively from time to time.

"Kurt..."

Kurt looked at him nervously, but said nothing.

"What was that?" Blaine finally asked.

"He compelled you. He thought I was weaker than him, and he figured he could just take you."

"But...you're not weaker than him."

"No."

"Kurt...what did he mean, when he asked what you were doing here with a human?"

Kurt sighed and looked down at the table. "Sidhe with my...particular range of power don't usually consort with humans, that's all."

"Why not?"

"It's complicated."

"Try me."

Kurt looked back at Blaine with surprise. It was the first time he had heard that edge of irritation in Blaine's voice.

"It's...just Sidhe politics, Blaine. I wouldn't even know where to start."

Blaine threw his hands up in frustration. "Kurt, we've been traveling together for weeks. Nearly months, at this point. I don't  _care_ how complicated it is, just tell me. I tell you  _everything._  You ask me a question and I answer it, Kurt. But you...all you give me are these little half-answers and cryptic implications and I just..."

Blaine looked squarely at him.

"You're not coming to Khryslee with me, are you? There's not even the smallest chance, is there?"

Kurt sighed. "No."

Blaine stood up. "Then I guess it doesn't matter. None of it matters."

Kurt looked up at him helplessly, on the verge of tears.

"Blaine, I never said-"

"I know. You never promised me anything. I suppose I had just hoped that this...between us...that it meant something. To you."

"It does," Kurt whispered.

"What?" Blaine asked. "What does it mean? What do  _I_  mean to you, Kurt?"

Kurt looked back down at the table in silence.

He heard a jingle as Blaine threw a few coins onto the table.

"I'll see you back at the inn," Blaine said, his voice hollow.

And then he was gone.

Kurt wept.


	13. Chapter 13

Kurt didn't allow himself to fall apart for too long. After Blaine left, it took him a few moments to pull himself together, to start thinking clearly enough to register one very important fact.

Blaine had left the cafe.

On his own.

In S'aufa.

Kurt bolted from the table and ran out the gate.

His heart was pounding in his chest as he scoured the streets. Blaine hadn't been gone long; how far could he have gotten?

Kurt couldn't believe he had let this happen. It wasn't like this was just any human loose in a border town. Blaine had been compelled  _so_  easily it was almost stunning, though it shouldn't have been. He was compelled so easily because he trusted so easily, because his heart was so open...

And in his current raw state, all it would take was a glance. A glance from a Sidhe looking to trade or acquire a new pet, and Blaine would be gone.

Kurt felt like he was going to be sick.

He ran back to the inn as fast as he could. Blaine was not in their little leaf mound, and he was not at the pond. The woman that ran the inn had not seen him. The stable boy had not seen him. The other guests had not seen him.

Kurt searched the woods around the inn, calling for him. He went to the amphitheater, the market, the public gardens. The more places he visited, the more he began to panic.

Someone had Blaine. He was sure of it. He could feel it in his blood.

Kurt knew he couldn't stay with Blaine in Khryslee; he had responsibilities that were bigger than his own happiness, bigger even than Blaine's happiness.

But nothing was bigger than Blaine's freedom.

Kurt was going to get Blaine to Khryslee. He was going to do everything in his power to give Blaine a good life, even if he couldn't be a part of it. And it wasn't just because Blaine had done the same for him.

It was because he loved him. And he couldn't let Blaine become anyone's toy.

Kurt ran back to the markets, to the stall where he and Blaine had bought each other their trinkets. It was a long shot, but...

He found a pendant with a gold-green stone. The pendant itself differed slightly, but it was definitely the same sort of stone that had been on Blaine's necklace. And since they were being sold by the same craftswoman, at the same stall, it was possible that they had been cut from the same stone.

Kurt bought the pendant and walked back to the inn. He would need a bit of calm and privacy for this.

Once inside the leaf hut, Kurt sat down on the floor, closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He held the pendant in his hands and concentrated.

On the stone. On gold-green eyes. On reuniting that which had been broken.

After a few minutes he felt the stone begin to glow slightly in his hands and his heart leapt. He allowed his consciousness to follow the thread of connection, slowly navigating the winding path and dimming his awareness of other pieces of the stone that lingered around the city. All he wanted was that one. The one on the silver chain, hanging just below Blaine's throat. If Kurt was lucky and Blaine was still even wearing it.

With a jolt, the connection hit him. The stone. The eyes. The skin. The thoughts and feelings, fuzzy with another's control.

Kurt's eyes snapped open and he leapt to his feet. He ran to the stables to prepare the horses.

* * *

Blaine knew exactly what was going to happen when the stranger approached him.

He remembered the feeling of sliding under the control of the Sidhe at the cafe. He hadn't given himself over entirely, had clung to the idea of being with Kurt even as he wrestled with the idea of staying with the other man.

But even so, he had known it would be so easy to give in. To just let go. To let it wash over him. To give up all control and autonomy and let himself believe that it was what he truly desired.

That first time, at the cafe, Kurt had anchored him. He had kept him from drifting too far.

But Kurt was gone. Not yet, not literally, but their time together had been nothing but a way for Kurt to heal some wounds and have some fun. Blaine didn't regret it. But he couldn't do it anymore.

Kurt had told Blaine that he had the power to break him.

Perhaps Blaine should have told Kurt that he had exactly the same power over Blaine.

The Sidhe that approached him on the way to the inn was trying some smooth line to get Blaine to look into his eyes.

Blaine knew exactly what he was trying to do.

He raised his head, met the stranger's eyes, and let it happen.

* * *

Kurt sped across the countryside, following the pull of the pendant around his neck. The stone actually lifted from his chest a bit, straining forward, with its sheer determination to join with its other half.

Kurt was glad the horses had had such a good long rest. They had been well cared for at the inn, given plenty of exercise without exertion and good food and clean water. He felt a bit bad about pushing them so hard on their first time back in the harness, but he had to get to Blaine. He just  _had_  to.

The man at the Western gate out of S'aufa had recognized the description. A few bottles of essence coaxed all the details out of him that he could muster.

Three Sidhe had left the city with Blaine, heading for L'auhe to "do some trade." they had several attractive young humans with them, and their intent was clear, though they claimed to trade in table wares.

That was the game. That was how it was played.

L'auhe was one of the Westernmost border towns, though Kurt sincerely hoped he could reach Blaine before then.

Because the Sidhe that had taken Blaine would have several days with him before they reached L'auhe. Kurt silently prayed that Blaine was not to their taste, that they preferred women, and then instantly despised himself for having such thoughts. How dare he wish that kind of illusory, counterfeit consent on another, just so that Blaine could be spared?

In some ways, Kurt thought, what the Sidhe did to their human pets was worse than what the humans did to their Sidhe slaves. At least Kurt's mind had always been his own, no matter what had been done to his body. When Blaine came to him, after five years of slavery, Kurt had chosen to go with him. Chosen it because he could. But after five years of compulsion, that kernel of free will would be gone, rendering human pets literally incapable of choosing to leave the Sidhe that owned them.

Their true desires, their true selves, were simply burned away and killed after a time.

Kurt pushed the horses harder. The pendant strained against his throat.

* * *

The one that Blaine loved had not told him his name.

"Just call me sir," he had said in a tone that might sound cold coming from anyone else. Coming from him, however, it sounded authoritative but gentle. It sounded lovely.

Sir. His Sir.

The first night that they spent on their journey to L'auhe was nice, even though Blaine didn't get as much to eat as he would have preferred. The Sidhe slept in tents and Blaine and the other humans slept outside, and it was a little bit cold, especially without blankets, but that was all right because it was what Sir wanted. He slept huddled close with the other humans.

He dreamt of blue eyes.

He woke up feeling troubled. Sir didn't have blue eyes. Sir's eyes were violet. He knew that because he awoke to those very eyes peering down at him.

Sir's hand was on his arm. It was still night time, and Sir was tugging him to his feet.

"Come along, Blaine. I have something nice for you to do."

Blaine smiled up at him and rose to his feet. He followed Sir to one of the tents. It wasn't Sir's tent. It belonged to the female Sidhe. He followed Sir inside.

She was lounging on a pile of pillows and blankets, her pose and eyes seductive. Blaine supposed she was beautiful, with piercing green eyes and long silvery hair and a willowy frame. Her come-hither attempt had no effect on him, of course, and Blaine turned to look at Sir in confusion.

"It's all right, Blaine," Sir said with a smile. "Go ahead and take your pleasure with her. It isn't disloyal to me. I want you to."

"As do I," she added with a musical laugh.

As much as it pained Blaine to argue against Sir, he felt the need to make himself clear.

"But I...I prefer men.  _Only_  men. I'm sorry." He turned to the woman. "You are very beautiful, but..."

Sir was laughing deeply. The woman was scowling.

Sir grasped Blaine's chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted his face up toward him. Blaine gasped with excitement at the action.

"Blaine," Sir said in a rich, mellow voice, staring deeply into his eyes, "you want this. You want to be with her. Whatever your past inclinations, you can't resist her. Perhaps you can't explain it to yourself. That doesn't matter. Go to her. Now."

Blaine turned toward the woman. She  _was_  lovely. Blaine thought about kissing her. It didn't seem like such a terrible idea. Her skin was gorgeous, and it glowed like pale moonlight...

Like Kurt's skin.

Blaine was suddenly seized by a sharp jolt of pain tearing through his heart. He choked back a loud sob and covered his face with his hands.

_Kurt._

When he looked back up, the two Sidhe were staring at him in surprise.

"I...I can't," Blaine managed to utter brokenly.

Sir sighed. "All right then. Go back to sleep with the others." He sounded annoyed, which was very upsetting. Blaine lingered, staring at him nervously.

The woman looked indignant. "What do you mean, go back to sleep with the others? You aren't trying hard enough. Force him!"

"No," Sir said sternly. "It's still early on and he could break away completely if I push too hard." He stroked Blaine's cheek. "Just give him time."

The woman made a noise of frustration. "But what if he isn't completely yours before we get to L'auhe? You know he will be snapped up as soon as we put him to market, just look at him! I  _want_ him. He's magnificent."

Sir smiled. "Don't worry. He will be mine. And then he can be yours for a night. Patience, my dear."

Sir turned back to Blaine. "Go back to sleep with the others, Blaine," he said, his voice more forceful this time.

Blaine did as he was told.

* * *

Sleeping without Blaine was miserable.

Kurt didn't realize how much he had come to depend on his warm body beside him to feel safe. He slept clutching Blaine's sword, sitting bolt upright at the smallest sound.

He did sleep, but not much. Not steadily. The tent felt cold and empty and far too large. Kurt would have preferred not to sleep at all, to press on through the night, but he knew he needed his strength. Blaine was with three Sidhe, and it would take all the power at his disposal to overtake three.

Kurt wondered how he had ever slept without Blaine. He wondered how he was going to be able to spend the rest of his life without it. Without him.

He wondered if he could.

Kurt wondered if one of the Sidhe had taken Blaine to bed with them by now. He clenched his jaw with rage at the thought. At the thought of someone subverting Blaine's will and touching him without his true consent. At the thought of anyone else touching Blaine at all. For any reason. Ever.

For the first time, Kurt allowed himself to think about whether or not he could truly do this. Leave Blaine, sacrifice his own happiness for the greater good. He would lose Blaine eventually, of course. He could extend Blaine's life, Sidhe did it in Khryslee all the time, but only by so long. Blaine would die first, and Kurt would have to spend a very long time without him.

But before that, he would be able to spend a very long time  _with_  him.

Kurt pushed the thought away forcefully. When he returned home he would be in a position to change things. To make a difference. To save lives. He couldn't dismiss that simply to spend a couple hundred years with the man he loved.

Could he?

No. He couldn't.

Kurt fell asleep with tear-stained cheeks, his hand placed lightly over the pendant at his throat.

He dreamt of golden hazel eyes.


	14. Chapter 14

Sir was asking Blaine about Kurt.

"I  _do_  love you," Blaine assured him.

"But you love him too."

Blaine sighed. "I love you too much to lie to you. Yes, I love him. But he doesn't love me."

Sir smiled, and something in it gave Blaine a small and temporary pang of discomfort.

"But you know that  _I_ love you, don't you, Blaine?" His voice was silken, the words like a healing salve. Blaine had ached for those words for so long, and Blaine knew that Sir was telling him the truth.

"Yes. That's why I'm here with you. I need to be with someone who loves me as much as I love them."

Blaine wondered if it was odd that he didn't desire Sir the way he remembered desiring Kurt. It seemed like that kind of intense love should be accompanied by intense desire, but he supposed his relationship with Sir was just different.

In the first place, Sir did not seem to desire Blaine at all. He had taken Kessa, one of the female humans that traveled with them, into his tent several times, but shown no desire to spend the night with any of the rest of them. Second, Sir seemed to very much want Blaine to make love to the one Blaine called Madame. Blaine wasn't quite sure why Sir wanted this so much, but Blaine wanted to please him.

On the third night, he had finally tried. He had allowed Madame to undress him and kiss him and touch him, but he couldn't seem to make himself respond to the touch. He had tried kissing her back, touching her, running his hands over her, everything.

There was a moment when he thought it would work. He was running his hand down the back of her knee, and as he squeezed her sweat-dampened thigh, he was thrown into a memory.

The memory of silken skin and trembling thighs beneath his hands. The body against his sliding against slick, moss-covered rocks, head thrown back, gasping his name.

Blaine felt himself start to harden. "Kurt," he groaned, burying his face in Madame's neck.

But it was only a moment. Because she smelled nothing like Kurt. Because he could feel her breasts pressing against his chest. And because she really hadn't seemed to enjoy being called Kurt.

So now Sir was asking him about Kurt, while Madame glowered at them from a distance.

"What is it that makes you hold onto your love for this other elf when you know you were just his plaything?"

Blaine cringed. "I don't think...it wasn't like that."

"No? Didn't you tell me that he rejected your love? That he only wanted to use your body?"

"I wouldn't say  _use-"_

"Blaine, I love you for  _who you are._  I don't need your body. Do you understand that?"

Blaine wasn't sure he did, but when he looked into Sir's eyes it all made perfect sense.

"Yes," he said.

"What I don't understand is why you don't want to take pleasure with our lovely Madame over there. She is most hurt by your rejection."

"I...I didn't mean to hurt her. I just...I've never wanted a woman in  _that_  sort of way. I tried, Sir, I really did, I just-"

"Blaine, I can't help but think that if you really loved me you would feel the desire I tell you to feel," Sir said with a gentle smile.

Blaine gazed into his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'll try harder."

* * *

Kurt felt like he was losing his mind.

It had been four days since he'd left S'aufa, and he'd seen no sign of Blaine. The pendant continued to tug him in the right direction, and he could feel Blaine's essence mingled with the stone it sought. But he seemed to be getting no closer. It was maddening.

Kurt strained to close the distance between them, stuffing leaves into his mouth while he rode rather than stopping to eat, hobbling to the ground on road-weary legs to slip in a few hours of sleep in the evenings. Sometimes he slept far longer than he should, but he never slept well and he never felt rested. He was haggard and sore and exhausted, and knew he needed to take better care of himself if he was going to overpower Blaine's captors.

But he couldn't stop. He hated sleep. Because they had Blaine, and if Kurt didn't reach him in time it would not just be Kurt that lost Blaine. It would be the  _world_  that lost Blaine. And Kurt couldn't do that to the world, no matter how much he hated it sometimes.

Kurt loved him so much it ached. He loved him so much it burned. He couldn't even spare enough feeling to be furious with himself for falling in love with a human, because just thinking about it made the love swallow the anger whole.

But he had let Blaine get caught. He had allowed himself to wallow in self-pity just long enough for Blaine to be taken prisoner, and it was completely Kurt's fault. And nothing could swallow the fury he felt toward himself for that.

So he pushed ahead, praying to the gods that he wouldn't be too late, that someday he might be able to forgive himself.

* * *

On the evening of the fourth day, the Sidhe were rationing out their water. Milord, the third among them, had complained about how little they had, and asked Blaine how long humans were generally able to live without it. Blaine asked why they didn't simply summon a column of rain like Kurt did.

They all looked at him.

"I...thought you said that Kurt healed you?" Sir asked in an odd tone.

"He did," Blaine said proudly. "He even left me with some residual power, so I could melt iron chains. It was incredible."

The three exchanged nervous glances.

"Blaine," said Sir slowly, staring hard into Blaine's eyes, "you need to tell us  _everything_  you saw Kurt do."

Blaine was pleased that Sir was being so mature and gracious about Kurt, even though it must be painful for him knowing that Blaine still loved him. He was clearly impressed with Kurt's power, just as Blaine had always been, and Blaine couldn't hide his excitement when he told him about the night in the clearing when Kurt had destroyed Dronyen's best men. When he felt like he had been talking for far too long, he paused.

"I'm sorry," he said to Sir. "Is it...painful hearing me talk about Kurt? I'm sure your power is very impressive too, I'd just never seen a Sidhe use their power before I met Kurt."

"It's fine, Blaine," Sir said shortly. Blaine noticed that the others were busy packing the wagon.

"Are we leaving? But we just arrived here."

"We're leaving. We will ride through the night to L'auhe. Now help the others."

"But-"

"Don't ask questions!" Sir roared. "Just  _do as you're told!"_

Blaine stumbled backward a bit in shock, and then ran to help pack up the wagon.

* * *

The pendant was absolutely vibrating. If Kurt hadn't replaced the delicate chain with strong cord before leaving S'aufa, it would have flown from his neck by now. It strained against the cord, digging into the back of his neck. He couldn't stop for the night like he'd planned. Not when Blaine was so close.

He could almost feel him. Almost feel his skin and see his eyes. He could almost taste him in his very bones.

Kurt gave a loud shriek in Elfin tongue, and the horses reacted as if the ground were on fire, surging forward so hard that the carriage was temporarily lifted into the air.

"I'm coming, Blaine," Kurt whispered.

* * *

They were almost packed up and ready to go when Blaine felt a tug at his neck. He looked down in surprise to see his pendant glowing, seeming to strain forward of its own volition. He reached up to touch it.

"What is that?" he looked up to see Madame standing in front of him, eyes fixed on the pendant.

"It's just...a necklace. It just started doing this. I'm not sure-"

"Where did you get it?"

Blaine stroked the stone with his thumb. It was warm. "Kurt bought it for me."

Madame screamed something loudly in Elfin tongue while reaching forward, ripping the chain from Blaine's throat so hard that he jerked forward and nearly fell to the ground. Sir and Milord ran over, and the three began yelling back and forth rapidly in a language that somehow sounded much less like music than usual.

They seemed to be arguing about Blaine. Sir was trying to push Blaine toward the wagon, while Milord was trying to pull him back. Madame just kept gesturing toward the pendant, her eyes full of fear.

Finally Sir seemed to prevail. He hurried Blaine toward the wagon with the other two close behind, bellowing for the group of humans to  _move their asses._

Blaine saw a faint glint against the moonlit sky as Madame hurled his pendant out of the back of the wagon.

They moved toward L'auhe at what felt like an incredible speed.

* * *

Kurt pulled the carriage to an abrupt halt.

The pendant had begun pushing back  _against_  him, as if trying to burrow into his flesh.

As if he had passed the thing it was looking for.

Kurt stood up and turned around. The pendant strained forward again.

Slowly, he turned the horses around and guided them into an easy walk. When the strain of the pendant became unusually strong, he pulled them to a stop and hopped down from his perch.

Kurt walked slowly around the clearing. It had obviously been left somewhat recently; the embers of a fire were still glowing slightly in a makeshift pit, and tent-sized lengths of grass were still slightly flattened.

Suddenly, the pendant struck him in the chin. He looked up.

Above him, tangled in a low branch, was Blaine's pendant. The chain had been snapped, and it was trying desperately to reach the pendant at Kurt's neck.

Kurt pulled a dagger from his belt and sliced the cord free.

The pendants flew together and Kurt fell to his knees.

* * *

Blaine was nudged awake as they reached the gates of L'auhe.

They all muttered their consent to be travelling with the Sidhe, and the Sidhe among them were instructed to show their power to prove that they weren't enslaved. Blaine watched in fascination as Sir caused a flower to sprout from between the cracks in the cobblestone, Madame summoned that same flower to fly into her hand, and Milord caused it to burst into flames.

The three Sidhe paid their way with essence, and rode into the city.

Blaine didn't see as much of L'auhe upon entering as he had in S'aufa. He had been out in the open air in S'aufa, with a panoramic view. Here he was only able to crowd with the other humans and glimpse the scenery through the back of the covered wagon as they passed it by.

They stopped at what looked like an inn, though Blaine was disappointed to find that it was a human-run inn of stone and wood. Blaine's first impression was that it wasn't particularly nice inside, or even clean, but when Sir looked at all of them fondly and asked, "isn't this a  _lovely_ inn?" they all realized that it was. Blaine wondered why he hadn't seen it at first. Perhaps he was just a bit cranky because he was incredibly thirsty.

The Sidhe led them upstairs to a dusty, sparsely furnished room with greasy windows.

"This is where you will be staying," Sir said to the group of humans. "We will be staying across the hall. Blaine, would you come with me, please?"

Blaine smiled. Sir wasn't asking for Kessa. Sir was asking for  _him._

Sir led Blaine across the hall to a considerably cleaner and more pleasant room.

Madame and Milord were already there.

"Blaine," Sir said, looking him deeply in the eye. "I want you to desire Madame. That is my deepest wish. Do you?"

"I..." Blaine faltered. He didn't want to disappoint Sir because he couldn't give him this. He didn't want Sir to doubt his love. But he wasn't sure if he could force his body to respond.

"I do love you," Blaine said desperately. "I just..."

Sir sighed and turned to the others. "We don't have time for this. He's too entrenched. We'll just have stipulate males-only."

"But a caveat like that will bring the price down!" Madame objected.

"We're hardly in a position to worry about  _that!_ " Sir grated. "That damn (unpronounceable Elfin word) could figure out where we are before we can make any kind of sale at  _all."_

"If you recall," Milord said coolly, "I did suggest we just cut our losses and leave him in the clearing. Then we wouldn't have to worry about any of this."

Blaine vaguely wondered what they were talking about. None of it made any sense to him.

Sir laughed harshly. "Look at him. Even with a reduced price, he's still worth more than twice what any of the others are." He turned to Madame. "I'm sorry. We have to stipulate." She stomped her foot in frustration.

Then he turned to Milord. "There is, however, still the little matter of his hang-up on our many-talented friend. So...perhaps you can help him work that out."

Milord looked at him with pleasure and surprise. "Really?"

Sir laughed. "Of course. We're stipulating, aren't we? No point in deconditioning that little boy-quirk of his now. Just make sure he can't remember the little (that same word again)'s name when you're through."

Milord smiled, his eyes boring into Blaine.

Madame laughed. "Still wish we'd left him in that clearing?"

Milord snorted. "I think you can leave now."

Madame threw her head back and sauntered out of the room, casting one last lingering gaze at Blaine before slamming the door behind her. Sir touched Blaine's cheek and looked into his eyes.

"Blaine, I know that you cannot desire Madame, and I understand. But it would mean very much to me if you would desire Milord. He wants very badly to make love to you, Blaine, and it is my sincere belief that you want him to as well."

Sir tilted Blaine's head so that he was looking squarely at Milord.

Milord was really quite handsome; that much had been evident to Blaine all along. But he had never realized just  _how_  handsome. His hair was blonde like Sir's and his eyes...

 _Oh._  His eyes were blue.

He looked to be around Sir's age, definitely older than Kurt, though Blaine couldn't have said  _how_  much older, since he didn't know how to tell a Sidhe's age.

His skin was darker than most of the other Sidhe Blaine had seen, and it gleamed almost golden.

Blaine could do this for Sir. He knew he could.

Milord walked over to Blaine and kissed him, and Blaine shuddered, and leaned against him.

He heard Sir laughing behind him. "Come see me when you're finished, boys," he said in a playful tone, and shut the door behind him as he left the room.


	15. Chapter 15

Once Kurt got past the gates to L'auhe, finding the inn wasn't difficult.

A covered wagon full of young human women and men and led by three Sidhe was not the kind of thing that simply escaped one's notice, even in a city like L'auhe. It had taken few enough coins in the right palms for Kurt to find himself at the proper destination.

The thing now, of course, would be finding Blaine.

Kurt walked inside, finding the place dingy and dirty, with a decidedly unfresh smell. The middle-aged human man at the front desk eyed him critically.

"You wanting a room, son?"

Kurt smiled as he approached him. "Actually, I'm looking for someone. I thought you might be able to help me."

The man turned his gaze from Kurt and began shuffling some papers. "I'm not in the business of putting my hands in other people's dirty laundry. Folks come here, they get their privacy. I'll offer the same to you if you want a room."

Kurt sighed. "This is really very important. I have reason to believe that a dear friend of mine might be here against his will, and I very much need to find him."

The man frowned. "We don't tolerate slavery around here, son. Our Sidhe are free. You should know that."

Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, giving himself a moment to just breathe.

"All right, look," he said sharply. "I'm not an idiot and I know that three Sidhe came in here with a group of humans under compulsion. You probably stuck them in your dirtiest room for triple the rate. Now you can tell me what room they are in or I can burn your absolutely  _disgusting_ excuse for an inn to the  _Gods-blasted ground."_

On these last two words Kurt's eyes flashed like lightning, causing the innkeeper to blink rapidly before his vision came completely back into focus.

"Second floor, fourth door on the left. Room 12," he said quickly.

By the time he had finished speaking, Kurt was already at the base of the stairs.

Kurt found room 12 and pounded desperately on the door.

"Who is it?" Came a calm, sweet woman's voice with an elfin accent.

"Housekeeping," Kurt answered through gritted teeth.

"Oh, I think we're all s-"

Kurt pulled the dagger from his belt and picked the lock with practiced ease before flinging the door open, almost hitting a beautiful female Sidhe in the face.

Kurt scanned the room desperately. The woman was there with a male Sidhe – oh, and he was  _definitely_  the one with the power to compel, that much was clear from the way the eight or nine humans in the room were gazing at him.

None of whom were Blaine.

"Where is he?" Kurt demanded.

"I'm sorry, but  _who_  are you looking for?" The male Sidhe asked smoothly.

"You know  _exactly_ who I'm looking for.  _Where is he?"_

The two Sidhe exchanged baffled glances.

Oh no.

Had he been following the wrong people? Was Blaine somewhere else entirely? Kurt felt panic rise in his throat. What if Blaine really was _gone?_  What if he was never going to find him? What if-

"No...just give me a minute... _please..."_

The plea was just loud enough to be heard in the hallway. And the voice was unmistakable.

Kurt whipped around, hurling himself at the room across the hall. The two Sidhe from room 12 advanced on him quickly, and Kurt pulled out his dagger and held it before him defensively, while he slammed the backside of his body against the thin, cheap wood of the door to the room that held Blaine.

Kurt burst through the door backwards, stumbling to the floor, but managing not to drop his dagger. He scrambled to his feet with incredible speed and turned to the bed.

Blaine was pinned beneath a handsome male Sidhe with cold eyes. The man was more or less frozen with shock, staring at Kurt.

They weren't naked yet. But they were close.

It took a moment before Kurt could even speak. He stared at Blaine, unsure of whether he should scream or cry. Blaine stared back at him, his eyes thick with the clouds of compulsion.

And then they flickered slightly. "Kurt?" He asked, his voice small.

"Blaine," Kurt groaned, choking back a sob. He then turned his eyes to the man on top of Blaine.

"Get off him," he snarled.

"Or what?" The man sneered. They were on the second floor of a human-made structure, and there was no water for washing or drinking in the room. There were no candles or lamps burning. There were no plants or earth, save for what little their boots had tracked in.

The three other Sidhe wore looks of smug triumph. There was no anchor to be found.

Kurt reached into his pocket and pulled out a small glass jar. It was swirling with fire threaded with streaks of blue.

His own essence.

"Or I'll fucking kill you," Kurt responded evenly.

The man leapt off of Blaine like he was made of hot coals. He looked at Kurt nervously as he edged his way out of the room. When he got to the door he flat-out  _ran._  The woman had already left, probably the second she saw the jar.

Blaine sat up, staring between Kurt and the Sidhe that compelled him.

Kurt turned to the other Sidhe beside him.

"Let him go," he demanded.

The man looked at him, his lips curling into a slight smile. "No."

"Do you want me to-"

"I'm not afraid of you," the other Sidhe cut in. "I know what this boy is to you and he isn't just your pet. And if you make a single move that looks like you are going to uncork that, I will destroy him."

Kurt felt his blood run cold.

The man had him.

Because there are only two people who can break a compulsion. The person under compulsion and the Sidhe that had done it. And until the compulsion was broken, the Sidhe who had compelled Blaine had the power to snap his brain like a twig, to drive him permanently and irreparably insane.

Kurt swallowed hard and moved toward the bed, placing the jar back into his pocket.

"Blaine," he said softly, "please come with me."

Blaine's eyes darted to the other elf. "But...Sir...I'm with Sir now, Kurt. He loves me."

The other Sidhe smiled comfortably, making no move to stop Kurt from moving closer to Blaine.

Because clearly he didn't think he needed to.

Kurt sat down on the edge of the bed. "No, Blaine, he doesn't. He's controlling you."

"No one is controlling me, Kurt. I chose this." There was a resolute edge to Blaine's voice that surprised Kurt.

"Blaine, you want to go to Khryslee,  _remember?_  You want to be free. To be yourself. That's so important to you...you aren't meant to be someone's pet."

Blaine looked away. "I'm staying with Sir, Kurt. Please leave."

Kurt stared at him. He didn't seem to even be fighting it. Why wasn't he fighting it? Where was his spark?

"I believe the boy asked you to leave," the other Sidhe said.

"I believe this  _man_  is in no position to know  _what_  he wants," Kurt snapped.

"You know, he's telling you the truth. He did choose this."

Kurt snorted.

"I'm perfectly serious. He knew exactly what he was doing when he looked into my eyes. It was as if he  _wanted_  to give up control. Easiest conquest I've ever made, to be quite honest."

Blaine had shifted his position on the bed, and was now sitting with his back against the headboard and his knees up against his chest. He wasn't looking at either of the Sidhe.

"Blaine," Kurt said. "Please fight this."

Blaine didn't look at him.

The other Sidhe sighed loudly and strode over to Kurt, grabbing his arm roughly.

"All right, I've had about enough of this. The boy won't want you unless I tell him to want you. So I believe we've reached an impasse. Unless..."

Kurt turned to look at the man as he jerked his arm free.

"Unless you would like to discuss a fair price."

Kurt's jaw dropped. "I'm not going to  _buy_  him from you!"

The other Sidhe laughed indulgently. "Well, I don't see why not. You're looking to obtain, I'm looking to trade. And it isn't as if you can't afford him. He's already told us what you are. The only thing to settle is how  _much_  essence-"

"He's not property!" Kurt screamed, eyes flashing. "I won't treat him like property. I wouldn't  _ever_  do that to him."

Kurt turned back to Blaine. "Blaine," he said desperately.  _"Please._  Please fight this. You're strong, I know you are. I don't understand why you won't fight this. I want you to come with me. Please come with me!"

Blaine murmured something into his knee.

"Blaine? What-"

Blaine lifted his face and looked at Kurt through the clouds in his eyes. "You don't love me," he said simply, his voice like the very sound of heartbreak itself.

Kurt stared at him. He swallowed hard.

"That's not true, Blaine," he answered softly.

And then Kurt saw it. The flicker in his eyes, the lick of fire parting the clouds.

"Kurt," he said, his voice shaking. "Do you...what do you mean?"

"He means he's trying to manipulate you," Sir said shortly. "Blaine, look at me."

Blaine ignored him. He continued to look at Kurt.

"Do you love me, Kurt?"

Sir lunged. He threw himself between Kurt and Blaine, taking Blaine's face in his hands and staring at him hard.

"Blaine, listen to me.  _I_  love you. I'm the only one that loves you. This man betrayed you, and you can never forgive-"

Blaine gave a whimper of pain, twisting to free himself of Sir's grip. Kurt pulled the other man off of Blaine and shoved him from the bed, hard. Both Sidhe jumped to their feet.

"Get out," Kurt snarled.

The other Sidhe laughed. "Or else what? I believe we already had this little discussion. If you so much as-"

Kurt punched him. Hard. In the throat. The force of the blow sent Sir to the ground, gasping, and Kurt whirled around, grabbing Blaine's hand to pull him off the bed.

"Blaine, we have to go. Now.  _Please."_

Blaine held his hand, but resisted the pull. He stared into Kurt's eyes.

"Do you love me?"

"Blaine we have to-"

" _Do you love me?"_

Kurt tried to keep his breath steady.

"It doesn't change anything," he said.

Blaine's eyes were almost completely clear. "I didn't ask if it changes anything. I asked if you love me."

Kurt's heart was pounding so hard he was sure it could be heard across the city.

"I love you."

Blaine blinked once, and the clouds were gone.

Kurt heard Sir struggle to his feet behind him. Without breaking eye contact with Blaine, Kurt reached into his pocket and took out the glass jar of essence, fiddling the cork with his thumb.

There was a pause. And then the sound of footsteps rapidly disappearing behind them, as the other Sidhe fled the room.

Because clearly, he had seen Blaine's eyes too. And he knew that it was over.

"Kurt,", Blaine choked out, his eyes filling with tears, "please tell me you meant that. Please tell me you weren't just saying it to break the compulsion."

"I meant it, Blaine," Kurt said, his gaze and his voice both pulsing with intensity.

"Say it again," Blaine whispered.

"I love you." Kurt reached for Blaine's hand, and Blaine responded by squeezing so hard Kurt was surprised he didn't break his fingers.

Blaine's face broke out into the most radiant smile Kurt had ever seen. "Say it again."

Kurt couldn't help but laugh. "I love you!"

Blaine was laughing too. "Say it-"

Kurt pulled Blaine to him and kissed him. Blaine responded by throwing his arms around Kurt's neck and surging forward, causing Kurt to fall backwards and Blaine to land on top of him.

It was a long time before they broke away, kissing each other like their lives depended on it, like it was more essential to their survival than gravity or air. Kurt reached his hands up to cup Blaine's face, pulling back just far enough to whisper it again against his lips.

"I love you, Blaine."

"I love you, Kurt."

They fell back together, crying and laughing and kissing, neither one sure how long it lasted because time itself seemed like a trivial detail in the face of the joy they were feeling.

When they finally did pause to get some air, Blaine frowned.

"Kurt...the others."

Kurt looked up at him uncertainly.

"The other humans...they're planning to sell them. We have to help them."

Blaine leapt to his feet, his legs promptly failing him. He fell to the floor in a heap.

"Blaine!" Kurt knelt beside him.

"Sorry," Blaine mumbled, looking embarrassed. "I'm just a little dizzy...I guess I haven't really had much to eat or drink for awhile."

"I don't imagine you did," said Kurt, his brow furrowed. "They probably fed you as little as possible to keep you alive and used the compulsion to keep you from passing out."

"But Kurt, the others, they..."

Kurt pressed the bottle into Blaine's hand. "If anyone comes back here and tries  _anything_  with you, use this. And...don't look them in the eye."

Blaine dropped his gaze to the floor, looking ashamed. "I'm sorry, Kurt," he whispered.

"Don't, Blaine. Just...I'll be right back. I love you."

With those words, Blaine looked up and met his eyes again. "I love you too."

He closed his eyes as Kurt left the room, feeling like he was spinning. He was overwhelmed with emotion, incredibly lightheaded, and he had never been this thirsty in his entire life.

What had he done? He had let himself fall under another's control, he had let other people touch him. People that weren't Kurt.

But Kurt loved him.

Kurt  _loved_  him.

And even if they couldn't be together...

No. Blaine wasn't going to think about that right now. He had time to figure out why Kurt didn't believe they could be together, time to figure out a way to make it work regardless.

Because he loved Kurt. And Kurt loved him. And what could be more important than that?

* * *

Kurt returned to the room a few moments later, his heart heavy with guilt. The three Sidhe and the rest of the humans were gone. They had left the inn, taken the wagon and, according to the few people he talked to that had seen them leave, they were heading out of the city.

They weren't going to find them.

Kurt had thought about it countless times. About all the Sidhe that were still enslaved while he had managed to go free. About all those that he and Blaine  _hadn't_ saved, because they were so focused on getting Kurt to safety.

He knew how it felt to be the one that had achieved freedom, even though he didn't deserve it any more than the rest of them. And now Blaine was going to know what it felt like too.

Kurt didn't want Blaine to know what it felt like. He didn't relish having to tell him that his captors had escaped. That justice would not be done.

It was a sad, hollow feeling. And it was laced with guilt, because Kurt couldn't reign in the emotion that permeated him even more deeply.

Joy.

Because he had found Blaine. He had reached him. And even though he probably shouldn't have done it, it felt amazing to be able to tell Blaine that he loved him. It was as if a tight metal band had finally been removed from around his heart, and he was finally and completely alive.

When Kurt reached him, Blaine did not look good. His eyes were closed, his breathing was shallow, and his skin was unnaturally pale.

Kurt knelt down and picked him up.

"Kurt," Blaine muttered. "The others..."

"They're gone, Blaine, I'm sorry. But I've got you. I'm going to take care of you. Just...it's all right to sleep now, okay?"

Blaine murmured softly against his chest, and slipped out of consciousness. Kurt kissed his forehead gently and carried him out of the room, because he and Blaine were not going to stay in a filth-hole like this. Kurt was going to find them a half-decent Sidhe-run inn.

And maybe they would just have to stay in L'auhe for a little while. Because they were definitely going to need some time to get properly re-acquainted.

_Definitely._


	16. Chapter 16

Blaine awoke to a warm breeze against the skin of his back. He opened his eyes slowly, attempting to take in his surroundings.

He was lying on his stomach on a deep, plush bed of...something - moss, perhaps? - covered in a soft fabric. The room he was in seemed to be made of wood, but there was something about it that he had never seen before. Slowly, he realized that the walls seemed to be crafted from a single, unbroken piece of wood, unfinished but smooth. The room was round, and the floor was covered in ever-decreasing rings, as if it were constructed from one enormous log. There were round, glassless windows circling the room, and it smelled of green leaves and fresh wood.

Blaine heard faint movement off to one side, and he angled his head slightly toward it. Kurt was standing with his back to him, wearing form-fitting breeches and nothing else at all. He was doing something at what appeared to be a wooden table growing out of the floor. Blaine remained silent, enjoying the view.

Blaine had a few muddled memories of Kurt gently urging small sips of water and bites of something foodlike on him, and pressing his warm body against him as he drifted in and out of dreams. He also faintly remembered Kurt wrapping his arms around him and filling him with soft, cool light. Which would explain how utterly wonderful Blaine felt. It wasn't quite the same as how he'd felt after waking up at the inn in V'auda, though. This felt mellower by far, and Blaine had no desire to get up out of the bed where he lay.

He felt a smile creep across his face as Kurt bent over to pick something up from a basket on the floor. God, he had missed watching him.

And then he remembered that he had missed it because he hadn't been with Kurt.

He'd been with Sir. And Madame. And Milord.

He had let them take him, let them control him. They half-starved him and tried to make him have sex with two of them, including a  _woman,_  and they had been planning to sell him.

God, if Kurt hadn't-

Oh.

Wow.

Kurt loved him.

He hadn't been dreaming that part, had he?

He was pretty sure he hadn't been, but he was struck with a very sharp sense of uncertainty about what exactly had been real and what hadn't. Being under compulsion had felt like a dream, and breaking free from it had  _still_  kind of felt like a dream because he'd been so weak and dizzy...

Blaine wasn't aware of the panicked whimper that he emitted until Kurt turned around abruptly, a wedge of melon in one hand and a knife in the other.

His initial soft expression quickly shifted into one of concern.

"Blaine? Are you..."

"I love you," Blaine croaked desperately, his heart seeming to come to an abrupt halt in his chest as he waited for a response.

Kurt's face broke into a wide smile. He turned briefly to deposit the fruit and knife back on the table, and then walked over to Blaine, kneeling by the side of the bed. He took Blaine's hand in his.

"I love you too," he answered, gazing into Blaine's eyes with an expression that obliterated any possible cause for doubt.

They both moved into the kiss at the same time, each reaching out to cup the cheek of the other, the sweetness of it making them sigh and melt closer together.

When they pulled back, they kept their hands on one another's cheeks. Blaine smiled, feeling somehow shy.

"I was worried for a moment that I might have dreamt it."

Kurt didn't need to ask what he was referring to. "It was real," he confirmed, stroking Blaine's chin with his thumb. "And it still is."

Blaine swallowed.

"Kurt, I...I knew what he was going to do. Sir. Or whatever his name actually is. I just felt so lost and sad and..."

"Blaine. I know."

"I just...I'm so sor-"

"Blaine." Kurt held his gaze, his thumb brushing across Blaine's lips. "We should talk about it, and we will talk about it. But now...I was so scared, Blaine, but I found you. And you broke the compulsion. And...and now you know that I love you. Can we just...celebrate for right now? Maybe just love each other and put the rest of it on hold?"

Blaine smiled. "That sounds really nice, Kurt."

Kurt leaned in to kiss him again, pulling back with a soft laugh when he heard Blaine's stomach rumble loudly.

"Come on. I was just about to wake you up anyway, so you can get some actual food in your system."

Blaine moaned. "But...couldn't you just bring it over here? This bed feels so good."

Kurt raised an eyebrow at him as he rose to his feet. "Blaine, the table is literally ten paces away. You have been lying in that bed since yesterday. Now get up or I will throw this painstakingly hand-picked selection of cheeses out the window."

Blaine quickly pushed himself into a sitting position. "Cheese?"

Kurt laughed and walked over to a group of hooks on the wall, pulling down a lightweight robe and tossing it to Blaine. "Yes. Cheese. I knew you would be in the mood for more than fruit and leaves after your ordeal."

Blaine stood up, suddenly processing the fact that he was naked. He looked down at himself and then smirked at Kurt.

Kurt threw his hands up. "The more exposed skin there is, the faster I am able to heal you. It was purely in the interest of medicine."

"I'm sure it was," Blaine answered smugly, pulling on the robe.

"I take no responsibility for any...indecorous thoughts that may have occurred during the process."

"Oh no?" Blaine asked, moving to sit next to Kurt at the table.

"No. That would be entirely your fault. For looking so...well..."

"Indecorous?"

"I was going to say delicious." Kurt bit into a piece of melon slowly, holding Blaine's gaze as he licked juice from his fingers.

Blaine felt himself blush slightly. Kurt was being so...playful. Blaine decided that it suited him very well.

"Eat!" Kurt urged, gesturing to the bounty spread across the table.

Kurt had outdone himself. The table was laden with sliced melon and berries, various cheeses, tender salad leaves and a large, crusty loaf of fresh bread. Kurt poured Blaine a cup of water from a large jug while Blaine ripped a large chunk of bread from the loaf.

They ate in silence for a few moments, Blaine feeling like he was tasting food for the first time in years. The fruit was sweet and succulent and perfectly ripe, and Kurt had chosen the best assortment of cheeses Blaine had ever had, which was especially impressive since he never ate it himself.

"You're too good to me," Blaine sighed, gazing at Kurt.

"Says the man who rescued me from slavery and saved my life," replied Kurt with a small smile.

"I could say the same of you. Except that you've saved my life far more often."

Kurt laughed. "After the first time, I hardly think it makes sense to keep track."

Blaine just smiled back at him fondly while he chewed, drinking in every bit of him.

"You're amazing, Kurt," he murmured softly. Kurt flushed a little as he returned Blaine's smile.

"I knew you were powerful, I could sense it the first time I ever saw you. But I never could have imagined  _how_  powerful. You just...you're amazing."

Kurt reached over and took Blaine's hand gently in his own.

"Power never comes to any good without heart, Blaine. And you are pure heart. It's...you're so brave. You saved me."

"You saved me too, Kurt."

Kurt shook his head. "I've  _rescued_  you from time to time. You  _saved_  me. I'm not talking about Dronyen. Or the verbena, or even the slavery. I'm talking about..." Kurt moved their joined hands to place Blaine's palm against his chest, covering Blaine's hand with his own, allowing him to feel Kurt's beating heart.

"Even if I'd managed to escape on my own, Blaine, without you I...I don't know what I would have become."

Blaine opened his mouth in protest, not moving his hand from Kurt's heart. He closed it when he couldn't find the words. Their eyes stayed locked for a long time.

"You...your heart is beating so fast," Blaine finally said so softly it was almost a whisper. "Is that...is it because you're a Sidhe?"

"No," Kurt answered just as softly. "It's because I'm this close to you. And because you're touching me."

Blaine swallowed. "Kurt, I...I think I've had enough to eat for right now."

Kurt nodded. "So have I."

They stood up together, their hands falling from Kurt's chest and lacing together, and moved toward the bed.

Kurt climbed into the bed and pulled Blaine down beside him. "I missed you so much," he whispered, pulling Blaine close and kissing him. Blaine let his hand slide down the smooth, soft skin of Kurt's back, throwing his leg across Kurt's hip. Blaine's robe began to slide back, and Kurt lifted Blaine's arm gently to ease it off of him completely.

As Kurt's hand moved to his hip, Blaine jerked.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked softly.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I just...I can't believe I let her touch me like this."

"Her?" Kurt asked sharply, staring at Blaine in shock. "You mean that...that  _woman?"_ He said the word as if it were offensive to even imagine her calling herself such a thing.

Blaine looked back at him nervously. "Yes. Kurt, I'm sorry, I-"

"No," Kurt said quickly, his expression softening. "No, Blaine, you didn't do anything wrong. I...I shouldn't be surprised, a large part of compulsion is de-conditioning entrenched inclinations. I just...I want to tear the wench apart with my bare hands. I want to tear  _all three_  of them apart. Gods, I can't believe they got away!"

Blaine sighed. "I'm sorry, we weren't going to talk about this. I just..."

"Blaine. Stop apologizing. You did  _nothing_  wrong."

"Yes I did, Kurt. I let him..."

"You were vulnerable and you had a moment of weakness. You were a person with a heart. That is your only crime. If anyone is to blame, Blaine, it's me."

Blaine gaped at him, stunned.  _"What?_  Kurt, no. I left you at the cafe, I didn't give you a chance to-"

"I should have followed you. I should have come after you right then and there. Well, no. What I should have done was never give you cause to leave in the first place. I should have told you everything and not been such a coward."

"You're not a coward," Blaine insisted, stroking Kurt's cheek. "You're the strongest person I've ever met."

Kurt swallowed. "Blaine, I'm not. I...I still can't even let myself consider staying with you because it terrifies me too much."

Kurt had begun to shake. Blaine pulled him closer.

Blaine wanted so much to respond, but he was holding his breath. Because this was as close as Kurt had ever come to actually contemplating a life with him. The admission felt so delicate Blaine was afraid it might tear in half if he so much as let a whisper of breath touch it.

"I'm not...just a normal Sidhe, Blaine." Now his voice was shaking too.

"I kind of figured that out, Kurt," Blaine said softly, breathing out.

"If I belonged to a different caste, I could just go with you. Even then it would be terrifying because your life is so much shorter than mine, and I don't know how I'm ever going to survive losing you, and it seems so much less painful to just lose you now, even though I'm not sure how I'm going to survive that either..."

He was clutching Blaine tightly now, and his skin had gone even paler than it usually was.

"It's all right, Kurt," Blaine soothed. "It's all right to be scared. I'm here. I'm right here."

Kurt drew a deep, shaky breath, and squeezed Blaine even tighter.

"But, Kurt, if it were me..." Blaine ventured tentatively. "If I could either lose you now or lose you years from now, I would take the years. I would take every second I could get. I...I know it isn't fair. But the only thing in the world that I know I want is you."

"It's...it's about more than what I  _want,_  Blaine," Kurt said in a small voice.

"What else, then?" Blaine asked gently.

"I...Blaine, I just got you back. I don't want to ruin it. If I promise that I'll tell you soon, can we just-"

"Love each other and put the rest of it on hold?" Blaine supplied gently. "Of course. That was the plan, wasn't it? I'm sorry, I-"

"Blaine!"

"Oh! I'm sorry! I mean, no, I'm just...I'm sorry that I keep saying I'm sorry!"

Kurt laughed, loosening his ferocious grip on Blaine slightly. He tilted his head to meet his eyes.

"I love you," he said, and that was all it took. Blaine's lips found his, and they became lost in one another's bodies.

Blaine unlaced Kurt's breeches and peeled them off, grabbing him around the ass and pulling their bodies flush against each other. They slid together for a few moments before Kurt pulled back, pushing Blaine down onto his back and straddling him.

"I don't care who else has touched you, Blaine. You're perfect and I love you and you're mine. Will you let me show you?"

Blaine simply stared at Kurt straddling him, naked and aroused and glowing with slight perspiration, and nodded.

Kurt began kissing Blaine's neck softly, moving his lips across the sensitive flesh of his throat while his hands gently caressed Blaine's chest. Blaine moaned softly while Kurt slowly worked his way downward, both mouth and hands progressing ever lower.

When he reached Blaine's stomach, Kurt skimmed his fingertips up and down his legs, the lightest touch imaginable, making Blaine shiver. He moved his mouth to Blaine's erection, teasing it lightly with his tongue before crawling up the length of Blaine's body. Kurt paused to kiss Blaine delicately on the lips before moving his mouth to Blaine's ear.

Kurt traced the shape of Blaine's ear with the tip of his tongue before whispering "Blaine, would you please turn over and close your eyes," and kissing his earlobe.

Breathing heavily, Blaine complied. He felt Kurt move away from the bed and then return.

He felt Kurt's lips against his ear again, and he shuddered at the erotic rush that the tickle of his breath sent through his entire body.

"Tell me if you don't like this, but I-"

"I'll like it," Blaine gasped out. "Anything you want to do, Kurt...I'll like it."

Kurt smiled against his ear. "All right. Just lie there. Keep your eyes closed. Let me take care of you."

Blaine expelled something between a whimper and a sigh as he felt the familiar drizzle of tingling liquid across his back. Kurt straddled him, and Blaine could feel the strain of Kurt's erection against the crack of his ass. He shifted slightly and groaned at the sensation just as Kurt began to massage his shoulders.

It was undeniably erotic, but also just...really relaxing. Kurt kneaded the muscles of his neck, shoulders and biceps and then moved down his back, the oil not only heightening the sensation of Kurt's touch but seeming to speed the relaxation of his muscles as well.

When he reached Blaine's tailbone, Kurt lifted himself from his seat on Blaine's ass and moved his oil-slicked hands there instead. He kneaded the cheeks and began pressing light kisses to them as well, and Blaine sighed with pleasure.

He felt Kurt shift off of him, and then felt a gentle nudge at his hip.

"Blaine," Kurt said softly. "Would you lift...?"

Blaine lifted his hips and allowed Kurt to stack pillows beneath them, his heart beginning to pound as he contemplated where this might be leading.

He felt Kurt settle in between his thighs, gently pushing his legs further apart with his hands.

And then he felt Kurt's hands on his ass again, and hot breath mingling with cool air as Kurt spread him open.

"Oh, God," Blaine whimpered, and felt himself shamelessly arching up toward Kurt's mouth.

This seemed to be all the encouragement Kurt needed, because he spread Blaine's cheeks even further, and then the slick tip of an oiled tongue was teasing Blaine's entrance.

Blaine bucked slightly, and even though Kurt's hands were holding him gently in place, the movement caused Kurt's tongue to dip slightly inside. Blaine gripped the bed coverings and cried out.

Kurt began darting his tongue in and out, moving it from side to side to begin stretching Blaine slightly. Blaine was writhing beneath him, alternating between grinding into the pillows underneath him and arching into the wet heat of Kurt's tongue.

And then Kurt's tongue was more deeply inside of him than he had ever thought possible. Certainly deeper than it was possible for any human tongue to penetrate, and it was so close...so close to the spot Blaine wanted it to reach, and just the thought, the mere idea of being  _licked_ there made him squirm uncontrollably.

"Kurt," he gasped out,  _Please._ I want you...I want you to make love to me."

Kurt pulled his tongue out of Blaine, and Blaine began shifting in order to turn over.

"I want to see you," he said softly. Kurt moved so as to allow Blaine to re-situate himself.

Kurt moved his fingers to Blaine's entrance to continue opening him up, and Blaine groaned with relief when the slender fingertips grazed the spot inside where he'd been yearning for contact.

When Kurt finally thrust into him, it was with "I love you" breathed against Blaine's lips. Blaine kissed him and then breathed the same words back.

They made love slowly, losing eye contact only long enough to kiss softly, making noises that were sometimes words, but mostly fell into gibberish when they realized there was nothing they could say to capture what they were feeling. At least nothing breathy and succinct and obtainable through a haze of pleasure.

There was "I love you," of course, and they did say that, and one another's names, and the names of deities. But nothing that wasn't Kurt or Blaine or love or divinity had any place between them as their hips rocked together and they stared into each other's eyes, so deep that they almost left their bodies while simultaneously letting their bodies take over completely.

The buildup was so slow that they didn't notice precisely when soft pleasure turned to heavy passion, but their breath became more ragged and their bodies became sweatier and Blaine was thrusting his hips up roughly to meet each of Kurt's pounding thrusts into him and they were yelling instead of moaning and their eyes were barely in focus.

And they never broke their gaze, neither lost sight of the other man's eyes, tethering them to one another as they rode out the crashing waves of their release.

There was a brief moment afterward, when Kurt collapsed onto Blaine and they both just worked on trying not to forget how to breathe, but as soon as they moved onto their sides to face one another their eyes were locked again.

"Kurt?" he said it in a whisper, not wanting anything to shatter the perfect calm that had settled around them.

"Yes?" Also a whisper. He stroked Blaine's arm gently.

"How do you say I Love You in your language?"

Kurt said it.

Blaine's eyes prickled with tears, but he kept them trained on Kurt. "That's beautiful. I wish I could say it too."

"I think you say it perfectly, Blaine," Kurt replied, wiping a tear from his cheek.


	17. Chapter 17

"How are you doing that?" Blaine asked, as he watched Kurt light candles from a single flame produced from his fingertip. "Don't you need an anchor?"

Kurt smiled. "I have one." He gestured around the room. "Or haven't you noticed that we are inside of a tree?"

Blaine opened his mouth and then closed it, pulling himself up from the bed so that he could look out the door.

The truth was that he  _hadn't_ realized they were inside a tree, though it did make sense now that he really looked around. He supposed he had been distracted by the fact that he and Kurt had spent the entire day making love.

Blaine pulled on his robe and parted the curtains that hung over the entrance to the room.

He almost fell over when he saw where they were.

The tree they were in was enormous, and their room seemed to be about two-thirds of the way to the top. A spiral staircase circled the trunk from top to bottom, broken up by landings like the one outside of their door. Four other trees of similar design surrounded them, and they towered high over the city.

Off in the distance Blaine saw something...odd. It was almost like looking down into the sea, but the rippling surface was entirely vertical, stretching as high and wide as he could see, and obstructing Blaine's view of anything that lay beyond it.

"What's that?" He breathed as Kurt came outside to join him, the answer coming to him a moment before Kurt answered him.

"That's the border."

Blaine was speechless. The sheer magnitude of it was overwhelming, even at such a distance, and he didn't know how he would be able to actually walk up to it without falling to his knees in awe.

"It's..." he finally began, trailing off.

"I know," Kurt said quietly, understanding everything from Blaine's tone alone.

"What is it like, Kurt? Is it completely different?"

"Not completely different, no. Some of the plants and animals are different, though animals can cross the border at will. It's only meant to keep humans out."

Blaine glanced at him. "But why? I mean...why is it like this?"

He didn't need to explain what he meant. He meant the slavery. The compulsion. The abandoned ruins and the religious persecution. It was the border itself. It was all of it.

"I don't know," Kurt sighed, easing himself onto the wide bench on their landing. He sat facing the lush green landscape disappearing into shimmering blue-gray.

"I  _should_  know," he continued, as Blaine sat next to him. "I...I was a bit of a different person before I left the feririar, Blaine. I wasn't terribly responsible. I neglected any and all studies that weren't directly related to sharpening my power."

Blaine smiled slightly. "That doesn't sound like you," he mused.

"Yes, well, it's amazing what slavery can do to a person," Kurt said bitterly. "I never used to have a care in the world. I used to just flit around kissing boys and eating flowers."

"You still do that," Blaine pointed out.

"Yes, well, I suppose I do. But...I never thought about deeper truths, Blaine. I never thought about what any of it meant. I led such an easy, comfortable life, and I chose not to learn about the ugliness in the world. I lost my first ancestor...my mother, I suppose you would say, at a very young age, and that was all the ugliness I cared to acknowledge."

Blaine reached over and took his hand. "I'm sorry. It's hard to lose someone like that," he said quietly.

Kurt gave him a small smile. "It was a long time ago. But thank you."

Blaine watched Kurt as he gazed at the undulating border with a faraway look in his eyes.

He wanted to ask Kurt about what was going to happen when they crossed that border, and why it was that Kurt was fighting the idea of staying with Blaine, even though he clearly seemed to want to.

He also wanted to know just what it was that made Kurt different from other Sidhe, though this mattered to him less, because Blaine couldn't imagine it actually making a difference. He would want to be with Kurt regardless.

But it all felt so heavy and harsh. Kurt had said he didn't want to tell Blaine yet because they had just come back together and he didn't want to _ruin_  it. That did not sound promising.

Blaine had wanted to know. He had wanted to know so badly that he had stormed out of that cafe in S'aufa and let Sir compel him. But that had been before he knew that Kurt loved him. And that had been before he realized that Kurt's decision was about more than what Kurt  _wanted._

And now knowing the truth could mean knowing, actually  _knowing_  that he and Kurt couldn't stay together.

So Blaine didn't ask.

"So..." Blaine said, searching for a topic. "Do plants...trees, I mean...do they count as earth?"

Kurt looked at him with an arched eyebrow.

"I mean, as far as anchoring goes."

Kurt nodded. "If they are growing out of the earth, then yes. Some aquatic plants function as water."

"Hmmm," Blaine mused. "One thing I don't understand, though."

"Yes?"

"Well, Sir – or Anus Face – whatever you want to call him -"

"I quite like Anus Face."

"Yeah, well, he could compel me no matter where we were. He didn't seem to need an anchor or essence or anything like that. And when you healed me in V'auda, you didn't have an anchor, did you? Or maybe you did, I suppose you could have used the fire or-"

Kurt shook his head. "There is a fifth anchor, for those sorts of powers."

Blaine stared at him for a moment. "Are you...going to tell me what it is?"

Kurt rolled his eyes as if it should be obvious.  _"Life,_  Blaine. For healing, compulsion, anything like that, life is the anchor. When I healed you and Anus Face compelled you,  _you_  were the anchor. We drew the power from your life-source. That's why you retain a bit of power for a week or two afterward. It's kind of a give-and-take."

Blaine looked incredulous. "So I...retained some of his power after I broke the compulsion?"

"I cleared you of it," said Kurt in a disgusted tone, as if he were referring to cleaning up vomit. "You do still have a bit of my essence lingering, though, from the healing."

Blaine smirked. "Not just from the healing, Kurt," he said in a sultry voice. Kurt laughed.

"So..." Blaine said thoughtfully, "Do I have enough of your  _essence,"_  he punctuated the word with a lewd expression, at which Kurt tried not to smile while he rolled his eyes, "so that I can grow our flowers?"

Kurt considered this. "You know, I'll bet you could," he replied.

Blaine smiled. "Show me how?"

Kurt nodded happily and stood up to lead Blaine back inside.

* * *

Their time in L'auhe was far too short.

As much as he wanted to linger with Blaine in the soft bed at the tree inn, Kurt was feeling unsettled. He knew he wouldn't feel entirely safe until they had crossed the border, and the only way they were going to be able to do it with a remote degree of safety was to bypass the rest of the border towns and cut through the forest.

Objectively, it was the safest route. But it made Kurt's heart pound, made him wake up and pace in the middle of the night.

Because the safest way he could think to go back in would be to follow the path he took out in the first place.

To travel back through that clearing where he had been caught. The first place where he had been raped, the first place where he had been treated like a thing rather than a person.

But now he would travel it with his eyes open, and with Blaine beside him.

But still...to go back there...

On their third night in the tree, Blaine awoke to soft sobs. Kurt was not beside him in the bed. Blaine sat up and looked around, finding himself frozen with horror when he finally located him.

Because he was curled up tightly against the wall, naked, moonlight flooding in through the windows and making his pale skin glow. Kurt's face was pressed into his knees, and he was crying hard, though obviously trying to remain as quiet as possible.

It reminded Blaine so vividly of that first night in Dronyen's castle that he thought he was going to be sick.

Blaine quickly moved out of the bed and across the room, kneeling beside him.

"Kurt," he whispered, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Kurt looked up at him, unable to stop sobbing, unable to speak. Blaine simply pulled him into his lap and held him tightly, stroking his back gently and planting occasional soft kisses on his forehead.

They stayed like that for a long time, until Kurt finally cried himself to sleep and Blaine carried him back to the bed.

When they woke up in each other's arms, Blaine did not ask what it had been about, though Kurt could see the fear and concern in his eyes.

Over breakfast, Kurt told him.

"There has to be another route we can take, Kurt," Blaine insisted.

Kurt sighed. "There is. There are. But you don't understand, Blaine, the border is  _chaos._  Drayez doesn't even bother with it, none of the rebel cities want to claim it, and none of the eastern feririars want to do anything about it because all of the trouble is on Villaluan soil. The humans and the Sidhe... they  _hunt_ one another there. And then there are all the humans desperate to get into Khryslee, willing to do anything to get through, and all the recently exiled Sidhe starting floods and fires because they're terrified of humans and their power goes a bit...haywire when they first cross. The only way to get through quickly and somewhat safely is to use one of the lesser-known routes. And the one I came through the first time...it's the only one I know."

"We'll find another," Blaine said firmly.

"Blaine, it's too dangerous. We just...it's all right. I'll be all right, as long as you're with me."

Blaine looked thoroughly unconvinced.

Kurt rubbed his already swollen and red-rimmed eyes miserably. "We can't just stroll through the border anywhere. We have to go through a portal. It's the most secluded one I know of...it's logical, Blaine. I'm just being..." Kurt waved a hand dismissively at his own emotional reaction.

"Kurt. You are planning to re-visit the site of one of the most traumatic things that has ever happened to you. I'm sorry, but that just doesn't sound  _logical_ to me. Can't we ask around? Look for another way? I don't want you to do this."

Kurt shook his head, fresh tears starting to well up in the corners of his eyes.

"I can't...if we start to ask, people might figure out where we are going. Who I am. I just need to get you to Khryslee before I can go home, Blaine. Please."

"Kurt..."

"Please, Blaine." His voice was small and broken, tears staining the tabletop over which his head was hanging limply. Blaine pulled his chair closer, and held him.

Blaine willed his frustration to diminish. Once again, Kurt was holding things back from him. And not only that, but he was insisting on putting himself through unnecessary pain for reasons he wasn't willing to explain.

His frustration was not diminishing.

Blaine wanted to demand that Kurt explain why it was so important that they take this route. Either that, or he would settle for going outside, taking a walk around the inn's grounds, taking some time alone and clearing his head.

But Kurt was crying, and he was raw and delicate and completely vulnerable. So instead, Blaine stayed and quietly held him.

* * *

They left the next day. More than anything, Kurt was overwhelmed by the anxiety he felt about the remainder of their journey through Villalu. He just wanted to get this over with.

It had become clear to Blaine that any argument with Kurt about the route they were taking would only end up with Kurt curled up and sobbing while Blaine tried to suppress the wrestling match between guilt and anger inside of him in order to comfort Kurt.

So he gave in.

He did, however, secure one very important promise. Kurt had agreed that once they crossed the border, he would answer Blaine's questions, even though Blaine wasn't entirely sure he wanted to hear those answers.

But that would be after they crossed the border.

After they followed the path that Kurt had been led along in chains.

After they found the clearing where Kurt had been held down and taken by force for the first time.

Blaine very much wanted to introduce the men that had done it to his sword. He wanted to destroy every man who had ever hurt Kurt with his bare hands. The more Kurt cried, the more Blaine itched for a good spot of justified violence. It was a slightly unsettling feeling for him.

"We should get some more weapons," Blaine said abruptly, as they readied the carriage.

Kurt gave him a noncommittal look.

"If it's really as dangerous as you say, we need to be prepared. And if anything happens to...compromise your power, I want to be able to fight. We need more than just a sword."

Kurt sighed. "Yes, that probably makes sense."

" _No one_  is going to hurt you again, Kurt," Blaine said sharply. Kurt flinched slightly at his tone.

Blaine walked up to him and wrapped his arms around him, "I hate this," he murmured. "I know it's nothing compared to how you're feeling, but I don't want to take this route any more than you do. When I think about what they did to you...Kurt, the only reason I'm not crying constantly is because I'm just too  _angry."_

Kurt nestled into him. "Well, the only reason I'm not angrier is because I've been crying constantly."

They both laughed softly. Blaine lifted Kurt's chin and kissed him. "I love you," he said. "And I hate what you've been though."

"I hate it too," Kurt murmured. "But Blaine, I meant it when I said that I'll be all right as long as you're with me. Before, when I was caught...I've never felt so lonely in my life. But I've never felt  _less_  lonely than when I'm with you."

"You have me," Blaine whispered, and kissed him again.  _At least until Khryslee,_  he added silently to himself.

"I'm sorry if I'm being...weak and frustrating. All the pain is just feeling so fresh right now. It's like a scab has been ripped off a wound."

Blaine smiled. "You're not being weak. You are being slightly frustrating, but I understand. Let's just face this now, and once we've crossed the border you can explain everything. And Kurt?"

Kurt looked at him.

"Please promise me that you will explain  _everything."_

Kurt gave him a faint smile. "I promise. I love you. You're wonderful, Blaine."

Blaine pulled him closer. "I try."

On their way out of the city, they spent the last of their money on food and weapons.

Because once they left L'auhe, they would have nowhere left to spend it.


	18. Chapter 18

Kurt was reminding Blaine more and more of the elf he had been at the beginning of their journey. He was both hyper-sensitive and aloof, crying into Blaine's arms one moment and refusing to look him in the eye the next.

Blaine was starting to get very worried.

Blaine was driving because they had decided that it would be more useful to have Kurt at the ready in case of an attack. Blaine was starting to wonder at this decision, however, as Kurt very nearly jumped every time an animal rustled through the grasses.

Blaine held Kurt's hand as much as possible, and tried desperately to distract him with near-constant chatter. He told Kurt about N'auri and his grandmother and the river where he and his brother had liked to swim. He told Kurt about the Academy and all the mischief he had gotten up to with the spoiled boys of Villalu Proper. He told Kurt about the different weapons he had learned to use there, hoping that this might give Kurt some comfort. He asked Kurt if he would make them some stew that night when they set up camp, and then talked about which root vegetables he preferred.

Then he asked if Kurt would play his pipes while they rode. At first Kurt demurred, but when he finally began to play Blaine realized that he should have just asked him to play in the first place.

Because he could simply feel the tension roll off of Kurt as he wrapped himself in the music. The fear was still there, but Kurt seemed to breathe it out into the notes, releasing it from his body as he filled their path with music.

Blaine let Kurt lose himself in the music, closing his eyes as it washed over him. It neutralized what little effectiveness he had as a lookout, but it was clearly soothing some of his pain, so Blaine thought it was worth the sacrifice.

It also seemed to distract Kurt from the many small details Blaine noticed around them as they passed through the countryside and into the forest, drawing ever-closer to the border.

Such as the trees embedded with iron-tipped arrows and smeared with plum-colored Sidhe blood.

Or the leathery, discolored human ears nailed to a fencepost.

Or the shriveled, graying Sidhe ears nailed to another.

Blaine was very glad that Kurt was too absorbed in his pipes to notice the large boulder that they rode past, a message smeared across it in dark purple blood.

The message was actually a passage from the T'aukhi Scrolls, the sacred writings of the Followers of Frilau, the closest thing to a state religion that Villalu had.

" _To tame the mighty Sidhe, and to bind him in iron and use him for the pleasure of men is a kindness, for only through this may he pay penance for his cruelty and find his way to Summerland."_

Blaine may have increased their pace more than slightly until the writing was far behind them.

* * *

By the time they finally made camp, Kurt seemed to have relaxed a bit. He did make stew for their supper, but he didn't eat much of it. He didn't even seem excited when Blaine mentioned that he thought he had seen some honeysuckle growing just a little ways back along the path.

"How much farther?" Blaine asked with concern, trying to figure out where they were on the map he held.

"Probably two or three days, if we continue at our current rate and don't run into any trouble," Kurt replied, pointing out their location to Blaine.

"You...you really seem to remember the route quite well."

"It's not the sort of thing you forget, Blaine. I spent the entire time in a wheeled iron cage, trying to memorize everything I possibly could about the landscape because I was sure I would find a way to escape. I was  _sure_ of it." He sighed heavily and looked away.

Blaine decided to stop making observations about Kurt's uncanny powers of recollection.

"The stew is delicious, Kurt," he supplied lamely instead.

Kurt looked over at him. "I'm sorry, Blaine."

" _Now_  who's apologizing unnecessarily?"

"I just...I'm sorry you have to see me like this. I'm sorry if I'm being moody. It's...I know it's completely irrational, but I keep thinking that  _they're_ around here somewhere. That they're going to find us while we're sleeping and it's just going to happen all over again. Except it will be worse, because they'll get you too."

Blaine reached out and took Kurt's hand. He didn't need to ask who Kurt was talking about.

"I won't let anyone hurt you again, Kurt, and you won't let anyone hurt me. Or have you forgotten how good we are at rescuing each other?"

Kurt smiled. "We are quite good at that," he agreed.

* * *

They slept in shifts.

Neither of them were particularly enthused to sleep without the solid warmth of the other man pressed against him, but they were in dangerous country and it simply wasn't safe. And although it embarrassed Kurt to admit it, Blaine knew how afraid he was to fall asleep because of what had happened to him five years ago.

Five years ago, while he had been sleeping.

Kurt didn't sleep well, especially without Blaine to cling to, but he did manage to secure a few hours here and there while Blaine sat by the opening of the tent with a bow and a quiver full of iron-tipped arrows.

An iron spear buried in the heart would kill a human just as well as a Sidhe, after all.

Blaine also maintained constant awareness of his proximity to his other weapons. He kept them strategically placed nearby, so that they were hidden from view but very easily accessible to him in a moment of need.

There was his sword, the throwing stars, and the iron knuckles studded with jagged spikes. There was also a double-sided battle axe. And a whip. Blaine had the least expertise with the whip, but he was sure he could handle it with reasonable competency if the need arose.

Maybe it was overkill. But he wasn't taking any chances.

Blaine felt himself almost nodding off a few times, and finally decided to wake Kurt rather than chance falling asleep at his post. He crawled into the tent and touched Kurt lightly, and Kurt flew bolt upright with a blood-curdling scream.

Blaine leapt back but grasped Kurt's hand tightly, his eyes wide with shock.

Kurt panted and looked around wildly, squeezing Blaine's hand and finally seeming to realize what it meant that he was holding onto it, and that it was attached to Blaine, and that they were the only two people there.

"Blaine...oh, gods, I could  _smell_  him. He was the one that kept...even the others told him not to do it so much, that it would drive the price down, that it would  _ruin_  me, but he..."

Kurt pulled Blaine to him so hard that Blaine almost lost his balance. Kurt buried his face in his chest and inhaled deeply.

"Gods, Blaine, I don't want to smell him, I want to smell  _you._  I don't want to remember what it felt like, I just...I...Blaine..."

Kurt had begun to almost  _claw_  at Blaine's tunic while he wrapped his arms and legs around him and began kissing his neck fast and hard. He kept mumbling half-sentences as his hands roamed everywhere and he straddled Blaine, grinding hard against his lap and panting desperately, as if trying to burrow inside Blaine's flesh just to escape the sense memory of the long-buried attacks that the dream had awoken.

"Kurt," Blaine soothed, running his hands slowly up and down Kurt's arms, and then moving them down to his hips to gently still them.

"Kurt. Stop. Look at me."

Kurt just continued to claw and grab until Blaine gently took Kurt's hands in his.

"Kurt."

Kurt slumped against Blaine's neck, his breath ragged. "Gods, Blaine," he whispered. He wasn't crying. He sounded like he was beyond tears.

"It's all right, Kurt. I'm here. You're safe. You're  _safe."_

Kurt shuddered against Blaine, and then seemed to literally melt into him when Blaine wrapped his arms around him.

They stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other.

Finally Kurt pulled back slightly and let out a shaky laugh.

"Well, I suppose it's my turn to stand watch for awhile. I'm certainly in no state to sleep  _now,_ anyway. I'm sorry I...sort of attacked you like that." He looked a bit sheepish.

Blaine shrugged. "It was one of the more pleasant attacks I've had to fend off in my lifetime," he said with a smile.

"I..." Kurt began, "Do you...think you would be able to sleep outside? I can keep the bugs away." He was still looking a bit shamefaced as he said it, quickly adding "you don't have to, I just-"

"Of course." Blaine gave him a gentle squeeze.

* * *

Kurt sat with his back against a wide, smooth tree trunk. Blaine was asleep with his head in Kurt's lap, his lips parted slightly, looking beautiful.

Kurt listened for danger and watched Blaine sleep.

He let the image of Blaine fill his mind, because it was the image of all that was good and noble and sweet and kind and earnest and perfect and beautiful in the world.

He held the image in his mind like a treasure. He tried to lock it in his memory, secure every detail, just as it was right now.

Kurt would have to memorize his eyes again later, and the rest of his body, since Blaine was wrapped in a blanket at present. But this image was worth remembering despite the lack of honey hazel and sculpted limbs. This image was nothing more or less than pure, distilled  _Blaine._

He only noticed the sunrise because of the way the rosy hue fell across Blaine's features.

* * *

Kurt had let Blaine sleep for entirely far too long, and they didn't head out until very late the next morning.

"You should have woken me up sooner," Blaine said grumpily. Kurt gave him an apologetic smile.

"I couldn't. You looked far too lovely and peaceful. And you needed the rest, too."

" _You_  need the rest more than I do," Blaine argued as Kurt stifled a mighty yawn.

That afternoon Blaine convinced Kurt to nap in the carriage while Blaine rode along the path. Kurt had worried out loud about Blaine not having someone to keep watch, and to himself he had silently worried about having another nightmare without the feel and scent of Blaine wrapped around him.

Blaine dismissed the first worry by insisting that Kurt would be his "secret weapon" hiding in the carriage should any trouble arise, and he had smoothly accommodated Kurt's unspoken concern by handing Kurt one of Blaine's dressing gowns to change into and Blaine's blanket to cover himself with, both smelling strongly and pleasantly of Blaine himself.

When he picked up the reins to carry them on their way, Kurt nestled securely in the carriage, Blaine began to sing, strong and clear, choosing soothing lullabies and lilting love ballads, and continued singing until he was fairly certain that Kurt had fallen asleep.

The day was bright and clear, the trees dappling the sunlight along the wide dirt path through the forest. Were it not for Kurt's associations with this route, Blaine thought, and the occasional evidences of bloody battle, it would probably be an incredibly pleasant road to travel.

Lost in thoughts and daydreams (alternating more or less between he and Kurt living together in a flower mound on a dairy farm in Khryslee, and he and Kurt making love against moss-covered rocks under a trickling waterfall – he had  _very much_  enjoyed that Sidhe inn in S'aufa), Blaine didn't notice the sound of the approaching carriage until it was quite close.

When it finally registered, he squared his shoulders and did a quick mental check of his weapons. Quiver on his back, dagger in his boot, throwing stars tucked under the perch, bow securely in his lap, and – he eased them on – iron knuckles on his fingers.

Blaine arranged his face into the most innocent, serene and unconcerned expression he could muster, and carried on.

When the carriage approached, he felt an initial wave of relief come over him when he saw two human men at the helm.

His relief receded slowly as he noticed something else attached to the back of the carriage.

An iron cage. Oh wheels.

And it was occupied.

Blaine swallowed the lump in his throat when the carriage pulled abreast of his and slowed to a stop.

Thank  _God_  Kurt was hidden from view.

"Afternoon, traveler," said the driver of the other carriage jovially. "Where might you be heading?"

"Z'auli," Blaine answered automatically. "Of a mind to trade some spices."

"Spices, eh?" leered the second man. "You look like a man with coin. Sure we couldn't interest you in some quality sprite flesh? No open market for it this far west, you know."

Blaine stiffened. "I know. I'm...not interested, thank you."

And Blaine's mind was racing. Were these the same men? Could they possibly be? The iron cage wasn't unique; most slave traders had them, as it was the best way to keep a Sidhe docile until there was enough verbena in their bloodstream to suppress them. But on this path, this  _very path_...

What could Blaine do? He had to free the Sidhe in the cage. But how? Should he wake Kurt? But what if they were the same men? Would it strengthen Kurt to see them, make him unleash his full power, or would it put him into a state of shock, giving the men a chance at the upper hand? There could easily be another three or four men in the carriage. It was doubtful that Blaine could take them all alone. But would waking Kurt just give them a third Sidhe to add to the cage?

A third. Because the cage had two.

Two that Blaine recognized.

Because all sound had dulled into background noise around him, though he was fairly certain the men were still talking to him.

His eyes had locked with one of the Sidhe in the cage.

It was Sir.

And with him was Milord.


	19. Chapter 19

It took Blaine a moment to realize that he was not under compulsion. Looking into Sir's eyes and feeling no loyalty, no tug toward loving him, nothing to battle or submit to...

It was odd. So odd that Blaine couldn't process it at first.

It was also kind of sad.

 _Sir_  was kind of sad. He looked waxy and a bit more aged than he had when Blaine had last seen him. Of course, it was certainly possible that he had  _always_  looked that way, but the compulsion had kept Blaine from seeing it.

But Milord did not look well either. And Blaine recalled how Kurt had looked when Dronyen had him draped in iron chains.

It was as if it sucked something vital and life-giving from their bodies. And Blaine tried not to pity them, but he couldn't seem to control himself.

If  _anyone_  deserved such a fate, it was Sir and Milord.

But that was just the problem. No one did.

Did they?

"Friend?"

Blaine was startled out of his thoughts by the driver looking at him curiously. Blaine's first thought was to snap  _don't call me friend_  at the flesh-peddlers. He held it in.

"I'm...I'm sorry. I just...where did you find them? How did you catch them?"

The driver gave him a smug smile. "Honeysuckle bush just up the road. Rigged up some chains. Easy as a lass from L'auhe, and works every time."

Blaine was suddenly very glad that Kurt hadn't been in the mood for honeysuckle the night before.

"Pretty things, ain't they?" the driver's companion added. "Even prettier when you get them on the verbena and take away the iron. You  _sure_ you're not looking to buy? There's nothing better than being the first to break in a wild one."

"I don't really believe in slavery," Blaine said coldly before he could stop himself. The man's words had reminded him  _so_  much of Dronyen, and really, he couldn't, he just  _couldn't..._

The driver snorted. "Oh, here we go. You a religious man, friend?"

 _Don't you dare call me friend, you -_ "If you're trying to use the T'aukhi Scrolls to defend yourself, don't bother," Blaine replied. "For one thing, I notice that so-called  _religious_  men seem to enjoy picking and choosing amongst them. The scrolls  _do_ also dictate that one should not wear wool with leather, you know."

Blaine looked pointedly at the woolen leggings and leather boots worn by both men.

"And then, there are all of the frankly hypocritical c-"

"We didn't stop to get into a theological debate," the driver's companion snapped. "We were merely wondering if you might have something to trade. You said you trade in spices? Salt, perhaps?"

"Sorry, no," Blaine muttered. "I should...I should probably be on my way."

He looked back at Sir and Milord. Sir looked utterly resigned, but Milord looked beseechingly at Blaine. It was a look of pure desperation, a look that said  _please don't leave me please don't leave me please don't leave me._

Blaine swallowed. "You know you can't bring slaves into the border towns, don't you?"

The driver laughed sharply. "Son, we've been doing this a long, long time. We have everything we need to get us far enough east to make a profit."

A long, long time.

How long?

Longer than five years, perhaps?

"Kurt!" Blaine barked suddenly, loud and sharp.

The two humans stared at him.  _"Excuse me?"_ demanded the driver.

"I...um...nervous tic. Just...you know, I believe I might have some salt after all. If you'll just give me a moment..."

The men were looking at him suspiciously. Blaine started to climb down from the perch, carrying his bow with him.

"You know what, friend? Why don't you just stay right there. And we'll be on our way."

Blaine bit his lip. Should he just drive on? The man next to the driver looked ready to nock an arrow in his own bow as he glared at Blaine, and Blaine was pretty sure that this could turn ugly if-

"I think you should let them go," said a soft, clear voice beside him. Blaine looked over in surprise. He hadn't even heard him move out of the carriage.

Kurt was staring at the men evenly, and his voice betrayed nothing of the fear he must have been feeling.

The men simply stared at him for a moment. Then the driver's companion quickly nocked an arrow, quickly screaming when both bow and arrow burst into flames.

"No." Kurt said calmly. "I did not ask you to shoot me with an arrow. I asked you to-"

Kurt's eyes flickered over to the cage and widened when he saw Sir and Milord.

"Let them  _go,"_ he finished steadily, returning his gaze to the two humans in front of him.

The driver quickly snapped the reins to set the horses in motion, but Kurt gave a quick, sharp cry in his native tongue and the horses stilled, watching him.

"Thank you," Kurt said, smiling at the horses. "You see?  _Some_  people actually listen to me when I speak. Now, I  _could_  kill you"- Kurt flicked a wrist, and the three additional men that were attempting to crawl out of the carriage in a stealthy manner fell to the ground as the earth shook violently beneath their feet.  _"All_  of you. It would be quite the...what did you call it, Blaine?  _Catharsis._  Yes, that's it. But the trouble is, killing people seems to  _do_  something to me." Kurt frowned. "And killing you would feel exceptionally good, but it would also  _hurt_ me. So..."

Kurt glanced back at Blaine. "Blaine? What do you think?"

"I...I don't know, Kurt. These...are these the same men that..."

"No. If they were they would most definitely be dead by now."

The men were now looking between Kurt and Blaine with naked fear.

Kurt sighed. "All right, well...why don't you start by unloading the carriage. Completely. Leave the...the prisoners where they are."

* * *

Several hours later, Kurt and Blaine continued west along the trail, Kurt now sufficiently refreshed to sit beside Blaine and hold his hand. They were mostly silent, their chosen course of action weighing on each of them heavily.

The carriage was significantly heavier. They had relieved the slave traders of all forms of iron and verbena, as well as weapons and most items of value in their possession. There was also a heavy iron cage on wheels trailing behind them. The cage still held its two occupants.

The slave traders had gone in the opposite direction, had not been stripped of either horses or carriage. Neither Kurt nor Blaine felt entirely at ease with their decision, but they weren't sure what else they could have done. Leaving them without a carriage would just encourage them to steal one from someone else or do something equally desperate, Kurt had reasoned. Killing them would have been simple, but neither Kurt nor Blaine had it in them to simply kill the men execution-style. Not when they had been groveling and whimpering and pleading for their lives.

Kurt was fairly sure he'd done enough killing to last him a good long while, anyhow.

He had done his best to instill intense fear in them. He had glowered at them with blue fire eyes, surrounded them in flames and told them _there are more like me, and they are coming for men like you. Most are not so merciful. The border is going to start going through some changes, men, and you don't want to be seen trading slaves when it comes._

Kurt's words had chilled Blaine to the bone. Because there was not even the barest hint that this might be bravado, or an empty threat at all. Kurt had sounded like a man with a  _very_  specific plan in mind.

It didn't sound like a bad plan, but it sure as hell sounded like a bloody one.

They finally pulled into a suitable clearing as dusk approached. Kurt immediately leapt down and began cooing over the horses, who were exhausted from the extra burden they had had to pull that day. Blaine meandered to the back of the carriage, stopping in front of the cage and folding his arms across his chest.

"Well. This is..."

"Ironic, yes." Sir cut him off. "Congratulations, boy. We are completely at your mercy. Now either kill us or let it go if you don't mind."

Milord's eyes widened. "No...he just...no. Don't listen to him. He's just...he's tired. And upset. And..."

Blaine narrowed his eyes at Sir, who seemed to be shifting uncomfortably on the floor of the cage.

"S..." Blaine stopped himself before calling him Sir. "Did...did they hurt you?"

"What do you think?" snapped Sir. "They dropped iron chains onto us. Or is that how you take your pleasure? I never took you for one who-"

"That's not what I mean and you know it," Blaine said softly. "Did they...touch you?"

Sir looked away. Milord flinched.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said.

"Spare us your pity," Sir snarled. "Coming from an animal like you, it-"

"I should think you'd be rather grateful for his pity," Kurt snarled, as he stalked over to join them. "Seeing as how it's just about all that's keeping you alive right now."

"Kurt..." Blaine said gently, "You don't understand. Those men, they-"

"I know," Kurt said. "They did exactly what slave traders do. I  _remember."_  Milord's eyes widened at that, and even Sir's gaze flickered over to him for a moment.

"It shouldn't have happened, and I'm sorry for you that it did, but it doesn't make either one of you innocent. You've done exactly the same thing to the humans you've enslaved, and I don't want to know how many times."

"It wasn't the same!" Milord protested desperately. "They, they liked it..."

"They were compelled," Kurt corrected.

"They were compelled to  _like_  it!" Sir exploded. "Gods, are you really doing this?  _You?_  Humans experience compulsion as pleasure, their bodies enjoy it, it isn't  _rape!"_

"Yes it  _is!"_  Blaine cried out incredulously.

Sir looked at Kurt and said something in Elfin tongue.

"Speak Villaluan," Kurt insisted harshly, "so that Blaine can understand you."

Sir continued speaking in his native tongue.

"If you call him that again, I'll cut your tongue out of your head!" Kurt snapped, stopping just short of lunging bodily at the cage.

"He doesn't mean it, he's just...old fashioned," Milord said desperately.

Kurt raised an eyebrow at Milord. "Is that what you're going to call it?"

"You know what I mean," Milord muttered, looking at his feet.

"No, I really don't," Kurt said.

Milord looked puzzled. Sir simply snorted.

"He doesn't  _know_  what you're talking about, because he probably flitted around doing whatever he pleased while the other children were learning. I imagine it was all just  _beneath_  you, wasn't it, you precious little thing?"

Kurt glared at him.

"Um, Kurt?" Blaine asked tentatively, walking away from the cage and gently pulling Kurt along with him. Kurt allowed it, his expression still dark.

When they were out of earshot, Blaine sighed and turned to Kurt.

"Let me kill them," Kurt blurted out.

Blaine gaped at him. "Kurt, no."

"Why  _not?_  Is this some sort of official let-slave-trading-rapists-go-free day? Some sort of Villaluan holiday I never learned about?"

"I think that holiday is observed every day in Villalu," Blaine answered with a sad smile. "But we can't kill them in a  _cage,_  Kurt. We need to figure out what to do."

Kurt sighed. "I know what I need to do." He walked back to the cage.

"Tell me your names."

Milord quickly spoke his. After a solid minute and a heavy sigh, Sir followed suit.

"All right. Now what are your (unpronounceable Elfin word)? Blaine needs to be able to call you something too."

"Tash," Milord said quickly, before Sir could open his mouth. "And he's Brec." Sir ( _Brec,_  Blaine corrected himself) glared at Tash.

Kurt exhaled deeply. "All right. Now I don't want to kill you quite so much. Brec, I'm going to bind you."

For the first time, Blaine saw fear race across Brec's eyes.

"Kill me instead," he whispered. "You may as well. I'll be defenseless."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You  _must_  have something else."

Brec sighed, and waved a hand dismissively. "Earth," he said, sounding unimpressed.

Kurt's lips twitched up into something that was almost a smile.

"You were a home-grower," he said with an edge of unmasked delight.

Brec glowered at him. "What of it? Too low-caste an occupation for your taste?"

"Of course not. It takes great skill to do it well. Much more respectable than being a slave-trader."

"I was  _never_  a slave-trader," Brec said stubbornly.

Ignoring Brec's statement, Kurt turned to Blaine to explain. "Sidhe with the power to compel usually have an elemental power as well. One of the  _non_ -abhorrent ways one can use compulsion is to direct it at an element. Those who command earth can use the combination of the two to grow homes and other structures. Like the Sidhe inns we stayed at." Kurt turned back to Brec. "It's a talent I've always envied," he admitted.

"Then why don't you go ahead and  _do_  it?" Brec groused. Kurt gave him an odd look.

"Kurt can't compel," Blaine said, feeling like he was missing something.

"Oh, is that what he  _told_ you?" Brec asked with a delighted laugh.

"It's true, I can't," Kurt said quickly, looking at Blaine. "I was bound," he added, turning back toward Brec. "By choice."

Brec looked incredulous. "You expect me to believe-"

"Look. I may have been a precious little thing that  _flitted around_  while the other children were learning, but I did have a basic sense of right and wrong." Kurt walked closer to the cage, got as close as he could without touching it.

"I know what it can do to people. I understand the constant temptation, Brec, I do. And I will admit that I loved my power, that I still love my power, but there was no good that would come of the compulsion for me. I knew I didn't have a future as a home-grower or a light-keeper or a water-bearer. I only would have used it for control."

"But you...you could have controlled  _Sidhe,"_ Tash breathed, staring at Kurt with something very much akin to wonder. "You could have done _anything."_

"I...yes." Kurt conceded. "And now, thank the gods, I can't."

"Don't you miss it? Can't you feel it... _itching_  at you when you aren't using it?" Brec was searching Kurt's face desperately.

"Yes," Kurt answered softly. "But if I can live with it, so can you."

* * *

Kurt did not trust Brec around Blaine, no matter how ardently Blaine swore that he would avoid his eyes. He lead a miserable and resigned-looking Brec into the forest, leaving Blaine with Tash.

"Are you hungry?" Blaine asked, suddenly realizing that it had probably been a good long while since the elf had eaten. Tash nodded mutely.

Blaine picked a variety of leaves that he was pretty sure he'd seen Kurt eat, and brought a flask of water to the cage as well. He sat down in the grass beside the cage as Tash settled in to eat.

"Tash...what is Kurt going to do?"

Tash sighed. "He's going to bind him. Suppress his power to compel. Permanently. It will be like feeling constantly hungry but never being able to eat."

"And Kurt...feels that way too?"

Tash shrugged. "Kurt has quite a bit more power than Brec in other areas. In  _every_  other area. It probably isn't as much of a hardship for him." Tash chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "Or maybe it's worse. Because his ability to compel would have been so much stronger than Brec's. Suppressing something like  _that_  could be pure torture. I don't really know."

Blaine swallowed hard. So Kurt was suffering constantly. Perhaps that was why he had endured so much without breaking. Because he had had so much practice. Because he had already learned to live his life withstanding what most people couldn't imagine feeling for even a day.

Another thought struck Blaine suddenly, before he could force himself to push it away.

Tash knew who Kurt was. Or at least  _what_  Kurt was with respect to other Sidhe. All Blaine had to do was ask, and it probably wouldn't be difficult to figure out exactly what the problem was, exactly what the hesitation was around staying in Khryslee with Blaine. If he found out now, he would have time to formulate arguments and think of solutions. All he had to do was ask...

And then the idea was forcefully tackled by a wave of guilt.

Kurt obviously knew that Tash would answer Blaine's questions. He obviously knew that Blaine would have every opportunity to ask. But Kurt had promised to explain everything to Blaine as soon as they crossed the border. And Kurt  _trusted_  him. Kurt trusted him completely.

Blaine stood up. "I'll get you a blanket," he said, and quickly strode away.

* * *

Blaine and Kurt lay together in the tent that night, each lost in thought.

Kurt finally sighed. "That was...hard. The binding. I didn't enjoy it."

Blaine was lying with his cheek against Kurt's chest. He glanced up at him.

"Tash said having a power bound is like always being hungry and never being able to eat."

Kurt laughed softly. "Well, that might be a bit dramatic."

"Kurt, why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't hold it back on purpose, Blaine. I suppose I just...I don't know. It seemed simpler that way."

"You need to stop doing that," Blaine said, keeping his voice gentle and punctuating the statement with a kiss to Kurt's chest. "I know you're not ready to tell me everything yet, but you really do need to stop holding things back like it's  _instinctive_  or something. I want to know everything about you. Even the complicated parts."

Kurt smiled. "I went a long time without having anyone to trust, Blaine, so I suppose it has become a bit instinctive. But you're right. And I do trust  _you."_

Blaine stroked Kurt's chest lovingly. "I know you do. Kurt...what is it like for you? Having part of your power bound?"

"Well, it's unpleasant, but I've gotten pretty accustomed to it by now. There are even times when the pain seems to stop altogether."

"Mmmm. Like when?"

"Like when you're inside me," Kurt whispered into Blaine's ear, making him shiver.

Blaine turned his face back up toward Kurt just in time to find his lips caught in a gentle kiss.

"Kurt," Blaine whispered, pulling back, "I'm sorry you had to do that today. I know S- Brec, I mean, probably deserves far worse, but it must have been difficult to cause that kind of pain."

"It was. It is. But now he can't hurt anyone else the way he hurt you, Blaine. I'm not sorry I did it."

"Neither am I."

"And now I don't want to think about him anymore," Kurt added, trailing his fingers below the back of Blaine's waistband.

Blaine smiled. "You're trying to seduce me."

"Yes, Blaine,  _trying_  would seem to be the appropriate word choice."

Blaine's smile turned into a laugh, and he rolled over until he was on top of Kurt. "Well, don't stop now. You've got me almost convinced."

They tried to keep quiet, but their moans and cries easily carried to the cage behind the carriage, where the two men huddled under blankets and tried not to notice the sharp and familiar scent of a certain flower that was most certainly  _not_  indigenous to this particular area.

It was clear to the Sidhe in the cage that the men in the tent were not merely having sex but making love. The groans were interspersed with comfortable laughter, the murmurs clearly full of pure adulation.

Tash sighed heavily, and decided to try and drown out the noises of pleasure coming from the tent with simple conversation.

"What are we going to do, Brec?"

Brec stared stonily up into the night.

He felt as though he had been neutered.  _Neutered._

"I'll tell you what we're going to do. We are going to kill his fucking human and make him watch, and then we are going to bleed him dry until he's weak as a kitten and we're swimming in essence, and then we are going to sell him to the first brain-dead sadist of a wealthy human we can find, sell the essence, and live like kings."

Tash stared at him with wide eyes. "But...what...we shouldn't...we can't just...he's going to...but... _how?"_

Brec laughed bitterly, his voice cutting into the darkness around them.

"I don't know. But we've got all night to come up with something."


	20. Chapter 20

"Tash, what did you mean earlier, when you said that Brec was just old-fashioned? How does that explain anything? Because compulsion  _is_ slavery, you know. And making someone under compulsion have sex with you...that  _is_  rape."

It was Blaine's turn on watch, and Tash couldn't seem to sleep either. Brec was lying in the cage with his back to Blaine, giving all appearances of being asleep, though he may have just preferred to ignore the conversation.

"I don't know that I see it that way, Blaine. Personally, I'd rather find myself under the  _impression_  that I was enjoying myself, even if it were false, than go through what those slave traders did to us."

Blaine winced gently. "I'm not...I mean, I don't want to negate what happened to you, Tash, but that doesn't make what you did to me...or I guess  _tried_  to do to me any better. If Kurt hadn't stopped us..."

"Your body seemed to be responding to it," Tash said softly, not meeting Blaine's eyes.

Blaine flushed. "Yes...I...that isn't the point. In fact, that's exactly the problem. Have you ever been compelled, Tash?"

Tash sighed. "No," he admitted.

"Well, trust me. Once the compulsion breaks...it feels  _very much_  like a violation."

"That's just it, though. Usually it never does break. Most humans that are compelled just stay that way forever. Just happy and unaware."

"And destroyed. Emptied out like a shell. Dead inside."

"Did you feel dead inside?"

"I think I would have, eventually. I could feel the corrosion starting to happen. In retrospect, I think I would rather lose  _anything_  before I would give up my free will. It's like...my  _selfhood_  was being taken from me."

Tash smiled slightly. "You sound like one of the followers of-" he spoke the unmistakable name of his grandmother's sand god.

Blaine gasped.

"I...my grandmother was. Tell me what you mean."

Tash rolled his shoulders. "Well. It's complicated. I was a history teacher before I was exiled, you know, so I can tend to be a bit  _detail-oriented._  Let me just start with this. The Sidhe owned humans – at least you would consider it ownership, most of us would think of them as pets – long before humans owned Sidhe. The followers of the Blessed Guardian of the Sands instigated the first uprising, made a big fuss about human rights, and eventually they were set free, a non-interference doctrine was established, and you were all sent to Villalu. That's the short version."

Blaine stared at him. "I thought...I thought the border had just always been there. To keep us separate from the Faerie lands."

"Well, yes. Because you humans run around like wild dogs, destroying everything you touch, unless you are properly compelled."

Blaine snorted in indignation.

"Well you  _do,_  you know," Tash asserted. "Blaine, have you ever wondered why there are no humans  _at all_  in the  _world_  outside of Villalu?"

Blaine thought about it. That couldn't be true, could it? What about...no, the Eastern Sea had a border too.

There were borders everywhere.

But that's just how the world was, wasn't it? Blaine had just always figured that there  _must_  be humans somewhere else, though he wasn't entirely sure where he had gotten that impression.

Blaine looked back at Tash.

"The borders aren't there to keep the humans  _out,_  Blaine. They're there to keep the humans  _in."_

"But...I..."

Tash rose to his knees, scooting closer to the bars between Blaine and himself. He stared at Blaine hard.

"Do you really think we couldn't just do whatever we wanted to you? Do you really think we couldn't just  _swarm_  Villalu and compel the lot of you and destroy all the iron and verbena and free all the slaves?"

Blaine stared at him. That was a  _very_  good question.

Tash laughed shortly. "Two reasons, Blaine. First, the non-interference doctrine that says humans get to make the laws in Villalu. And second, because we don't have prisons or dungeons on our side of the border. They know  _exactly_  what happens to us over here, and they don't do a thing about it because  _this_  is  _prison._  This, Blaine, is  _hell."_

Tash's cheeks had become flushed and his breathing seemed labored. He slumped to the floor. "We were just trying to get by," he muttered. "That's all we were trying to do."

Blaine swallowed.

He hadn't known it was like this at all.

"There are other ways to get by," he insisted, but his voice was a whisper.

"We can never go back, Blaine. We are  _exiled._  We can live in the border towns, but we're still at the mercy of human governance, even there. And the competition for resources in the cities can get fierce. It's no kind of life for a Sidhe with weak powers. Following Brec was working. He was taking care of us. But now..."

Blaine watched him intently. Tash looked downright forlorn. "What happened to...well...her name isn't really Madame, of course, but what happened to her?"

Tash shrugged and looked off into the distance. "Sold," he said. "Pretty quickly, too."

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"Blaine?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think...could you let me out for a bit, just so I can...uh, eliminate?"

Blaine blushed slightly. "There is a chamber pot right there, Tash."

Tash's nose wrinkled in disgust. "You want me to spend the entire night sleeping with  _that_  in here? Kurt took us out earlier. I don't see why you can't."

"Well, probably because you could set me on fire with a flick of your wrist if I let you out," Blaine reasoned. "But if you really need to...I mean, I could wake up Kurt."

Tash sighed. "Yes, I suppose. But...do you  _really_  think we should wake him? He seems to need the rest. And I wouldn't want him to get angry and decide to-"

"Tash, why are you trying to make me let you out?" Blaine was looking at him through narrowed eyes.

"Blaine, I just have to..."

"No. You're trying to soften me up and make me feel sorry for you so that I'll let you out and you can turn on me. Do I really seem that naïve to you?"

Tash pursed his lips and sighed heavily, allowing his shoulders to slump. "Yes," he admitted sullenly.

Blaine gave a soft laugh, touched by only the slightest edge of bitterness.

"You might want to start thinking for yourself before Brec gets you killed, you know," Blaine said idly, staring at Brec's supine form. "I don't care how bitter he is or how elaborate a scheme he may have cooked up, there is no  _way_  the two of you could overpower Kurt."

Blaine stood up. "Use the chamberpot, Tash. Or wait until it's Kurt's turn on watch and he can take you out. But I think I'm done talking to you right now."

Blaine walked back to the tent to watch Kurt sleep.

"Nice job," Brec muttered from his corner of the cage.

* * *

"All right, that's IT!"

Tash blinked against the harsh morning sunlight, taking a moment to register that it was Kurt who was yelling and storming toward the cage, Blaine running after him with a nervous expression, his sword swinging from his belt.

"No, Kurt, I didn't mean...just  _think_  about this. Please. It's not even him, he's just following along, it's B-"

Blaine's words died in his throat as Kurt stopped before the cage, a large hole melting and sizzling into one side, and then reached in and pulled Brec out by the throat. A few of the fragmented, weakened iron bars clattered to the ground at the sheer force with which Kurt seized the other Sidhe.

Blaine and Tash stood dumbfounded.

"Of course it's Brec, Blaine, I know that," said Kurt evenly, his blazing fire eyes boring into the horror-struck Sidhe in his hands.

Kurt took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, and then shoved Brec away forcefully. The shocked Sidhe stumbled backwards and fell to the ground.

Kurt opened his eyes and knelt down in front of him.

"Why? Can you please just tell me? We saved you from  _slavery,_  you ingrate! We were planning to let you  _go!_  And then you have your lackey try and manipulate Blaine so...what? So you can kill him and drape me in iron and bleed me of essence? Was that your little plan?"

Brec's fear had cooled into open disgust. "More or less," he sneered. "We had to have  _some_  sort of plan. We had to  _try._  Go ahead and kill me if you please. You've already left me impotent."

"I've left you perfectly  _intact,_  lacking only the ability to  _enslave_  people with your  _eyes!"_  Kurt grated.

"Humans," Brec muttered, almost too low to hear.

"Excuse me?"

Brec whipped his head around, meeting Kurt's gaze without a flinch. "I said  _humans._  Not people, just  _humans._ Or are you going to start binding home-growers so they can't compel  _plants?_  In the name of the gods, where does it _end?"_

"Humans are people," Kurt said, his tone dangerously calm. " _Blaine_  is a  _person!"_

Brec's lips curled into a chilling smile.  _"Blaine_  is your  _fucktoy,"_  he corrected.

Kurt lunged at Brec, hauling him up by his arms and slamming his back into the bars of the cage. Brec flinched at the iron digging into his skin.

"Okay," Kurt said softly. "All right. This is how we are going to do this. I am not going to use anything against you except a measure of Earth that is even in strength with your own, and, of course, my fists. And we are going to  _settle_  this."

Kurt let go of Brec and turned to Blaine.

"Blaine, ready the horses. Arm yourself. If I lose this, I want you to ride away as fast as you can."

Blaine choked on his own breath.

"Kurt. No. This is insane. Let's just...let's just leave. Come with me. He can't compel, he can't do anything. He's just...he's  _trying_  to provoke you. Don't give him the satisfaction."

"Blaine, please trust me when I say that the  _satisfaction_  here is going to be all my own." Kurt was still staring at Brec, cracking his knuckles, his eyes manic.

Blaine touched Kurt gently on the shoulder.

"Kurt, please," he said softly. "I don't know why you think you have to do this. Whatever threat he may have posed has already been contained. He's just...kind of  _pathetic_ now. Please walk away from this."

"Blaine..." Kurt's eyes flickered into something a bit softer when he looked into Blaine's eyes. "I...the things he said about you. About what we _have._  I can't just let him..."

Blaine moved his hand from Kurt's shoulder to his cheek. "Be the better man," he soothed, stroking Kurt's cheek with his thumb. "He can't _touch_  what we have, Kurt. Not if you don't let him."

They gazed at one another for a moment.

It was only a moment.

It was enough.

Kurt only saw Brec for a split second before he saw the look on Blaine's face.

The look of shock.

The gasp of pain.

Blaine fell to the ground, his own sword lodged in the back of his ribcage.

" _Blaine!"_ Kurt screamed, scrambling down to catch him.

Brec laughed, deep and rich. He raised a severed bar from the cage over his head, his hands covered with torn fabric from his own shirt, and brought it down swiftly across Kurt's back.

Kurt fell forward with a scream. Brec pushed the bar into Kurt's flesh with the heel of his boot, so hard that Kurt's flesh actually began to sizzle.

"Oh, that was  _too_  easy," Brec chuckled, luxuriating in a sense of victory. "I knew I could count on your boy to soften you up. Tash, will you-"

Brec stopped when he actually looked at Tash.

The other Sidhe had stepped out of the cage, and was staring at them with wide eyes.

At Blaine, bleeding on the ground.

At Kurt, screaming as the iron burned into his skin.

At Brec. Tormenting those that had freed him, even after all he had put them through.

Brec watched the conflict dance across Tash's face. Tash had talked to Blaine. Tash had  _listened_  to Blaine.

Brec moved fast. He flicked his wrist and the earth beneath them began to tremble, cracks beginning to form beneath Tash's feet.

Tash moved faster. And then he rushed to move Kurt and Blaine away from the screaming, writhing column of flame that he had caused Brec to become.

* * *

It was difficult to wrench the iron bar from Kurt's flesh without being able to touch it properly himself, but Tash had finally managed. Kurt had instantly fallen upon Blaine in a panic, trying to heal him even with jagged splinters of iron protruding from the gaping wound in his back, even without removing the sword.

Tash had never been good in a crisis. His instinct had always been to give up, to run, to hide. To find someone stronger than himself to protect him.

Tash did not have those options. Not now. He couldn't just kill Brec and then leave Blaine to die, too. What would be the point?

Tash moved over to Blaine, and gently urged Kurt away. It wasn't easy; Kurt was hysterical. But Tash finally broke through with gentle, repeated messages.  _I'm going to help him. You can't heal him until you have healed a bit more yourself. You need to let me look at him. Kurt, I'm going to help him. I'm going to help him. I'm going to help him._

Tash examined Blaine carefully. He still had a pulse, though it was a bit faint. He was still breathing. He didn't seem to have lost too much blood. Tash decided that it was probably safest not to remove the sword just yet. He also decided that they did not have a lot of time.

"Kurt." Kurt was sitting beside Blaine, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down his face, and whispering Blaine's name over and over again.

"Kurt," Tash repeated, touching his arm gently and looking at his face. "I can help you. I can help  _Blaine._  But you need to listen to me, all right? Now, do you have a medical supply kit in the carriage?"

Kurt looked at him, blank and uncomprehending.  _"Blaine,"_ he whispered brokenly.

"Kurt, if you don't communicate with me  _Blaine will die._  Now. Medical kit. Do you have one?"

Something seemed to snap into focus behind his eyes, and Kurt nodded. "Under...under the seat. In a wooden box. I...I should have been watching. I should have...what have I..."

Tash bit his lip. He had never seen a creature as powerful as Kurt look so utterly decimated. Especially not over a simple human boy.

"Kurt, I need you to do something, all right? I need you to stay with Blaine and...and hold his head in your lap. I'm going to be right back."

As he ran to the carriage, Tash wondered at what point he and Kurt had slipped into Elfin tongue. He was pretty sure that Kurt hadn't noticed either.

When Tash returned with the kit, Kurt was indeed holding Blaine's head in his lap, stroking his hair and whispering to him fervently.

Tash knelt behind Kurt.

"Kurt," he said softly. "This is going to hurt, all right? Just keep talking to Blaine."

Tash extracted the long, slender steel tweezers from the kit and began extracting Kurt's splinters one by one. Kurt shuddered a bit, and gave out a few small yelps of pain, but most of his attention stayed trained on Blaine. When the last splinter was out, the wound finally began to close.

When the wound was finally no more than a faint pink scar, Tash touched Kurt lightly on the back.

"All right, Kurt. When you're ready...I think you can probably heal him now."

Tash didn't add that he sincerely hoped it wasn't too late.

* * *

Kurt fought to calm himself enough to actually get started. It was especially difficult, because when he reached out to anchor the power in Blaine, he sensed how incredibly faint his life-force had become. Fainter by far than it had been at the inn in V'auda. Almost too faint for Kurt to save him.

Kurt started to panic. But he couldn't panic. Because if he panicked, Blaine's life would slip away even more, and then it really  _would_ be too late.

So instead, he concentrated.

It was a long time before Kurt felt his power begin to take root. He wasn't even sure that it was going to, but he  _had_ to be sure. He had to  _know_ that it would work, even if it seemed impossible. It was the only way to make it work. The only chance he had.

When he finally felt the power latch on, a tiny, delicate tendril wrapping itself around the faintest glimmer of life Kurt had ever felt, he couldn't stop the tears. He didn't even try.

It took a long, long time. It took every shred of energy he had. It may have even taken years off of his life. Kurt didn't care. He had plenty of years to spare. He would give Blaine every single one of them if he could.

When the power was strong enough, he wrapped it around the sword inside of Blaine's body, and slowly pushed it out, mending organs and muscles along the way, until the sword fell to the ground. The power mingled with Blaine's blood, some of it  _becoming_  blood, until his veins were once again thrumming with vitality.

When Blaine's pulse was strong and his breath was sure, Kurt finally allowed himself to stop.

And then he promptly passed out beside him.

Tash stared at the two men. He wondered if Kurt realized that he had been chanting "I love you" in Elfin tongue, his voice trance-like, the entire time that he worked on Blaine.

By the end, his voice had turned hoarse. It had been hours.

Tash thought about what he should do. It would be awhile before they woke up, but he was fairly certain that they would both survive. Blaine was calm and insightful, and Kurt was quick and powerful. Both were very intelligent. Even if they were left with nothing but the clothes on their back, they  _would_  survive. Tash was sure of it.

He looked at the horses and the laden carriage.

He looked back at the two men on the ground.

Tash carried first Blaine and then Kurt to the tent, and laid them down beside each other.

He then walked to the carriage, and paused for a moment, considering.

"Oh, very  _well,"_  he muttered irritably to himself.

He found a flask of water and a couple of apples, and settled himself against the trunk of a large tree to keep watch.


	21. Chapter 21

The first thing that occurred to Blaine was that he was missing something.

He was lying next to Kurt in the tent, daylight streaming in through the parted entryway.

Brec. Tash. Kurt.  _Pain._

His mind was a strange jumble of confusing information, but his body felt oddly amazing.

Blaine stood up, his limbs flowing like liquid, the specks of dust in the beam of sunlight at the entryway unusually detailed.

Wait. Had Kurt healed him? But why? What had happened?

And why were they  _both_  sleeping? Surely that couldn't be safe.

Blaine stretched, his breath catching at a slight tenderness in his side. He moved his hand to his ribcage and found a smooth stripe, like a new scar.

And then he remembered.

He'd been stabbed.

Blaine cast his eyes around the tent, looking for his sword.

When he didn't see it, or any other weapons, he grabbed the dagger he kept hidden at the bottom of his satchel and crept warily outside.

The first thing he noticed was the cage.

Oh, yeah. Kurt did that.

Then there was the smoking pile of something...or  _someone._  Yes, that would be the smell of burning flesh in the air.

And then he saw Tash.

Humming to himself as he looked through their supply of herbs and dried mushrooms.

Tash looked up, laughing when he took in Blaine's befuddled expression.

"Come on over, I'll fill in the blanks for you. I imagine you're feeling quite well, so you can help me make a stew. Kurt's going to need something hearty."

Blaine continued to stare at him. Tash sighed.

"I'm on your side now, if I'm on anyone's. At least until I can get to Z'auli, I figure that's closest."

Blaine's hand flexed around the dagger in his hand.

"Oh, for- I'm not going to  _burn_  you, Blaine! I already took care of Brec, isn't that enough?"

"You- you did that? I thought Kurt-"

"Kurt was in no state to do  _anything_. Brec damn near killed both of you. And then Kurt damn near killed  _himself_  when he healed you. He shouldn't have even seen it through, you were too far gone."

"Hence the stew," Tash added gently at Blaine's stricken expression. "He's going to be weak for a little while, and he's going to need you to take care of him. But he's going to be  _fine,_  Blaine, I promise you."

Blaine smiled through the inevitable tears that had started to flow.

"Thank you," he whispered, before sitting down next to Tash.

* * *

Kurt didn't wake up for another several hours.

Blaine had been checking on him regularly, and almost didn't hear the soft, pleading cry that came from the tent as the evening began to spread across the sky.

"Blaine?"

It was so quiet that Blaine wasn't entirely sure if he heard it with his ears or his heart, but he leapt to his feet and was beside Kurt in an instant.

Kurt's eyes were heavy, and he did seem very weak. Simply raising his head seemed to be a struggle.

"Kurt," Blaine whispered, throwing himself down onto the blankets beside him, and squeezing him tight.

Kurt hugged him back with as much energy as he could manage.

Blaine eased Kurt back down onto the blankets. Kurt simply stared up at him with wonder.

"You're alive," he murmured. Blaine laughed.

"Yes. You saved me. Again. But it was dangerous, Kurt, you shouldn't have..."

Kurt groaned. "Hush. Blaine, please kiss me."

Blaine did.

"I love you so much," Kurt sighed. "Stay here with me?"

Blaine smiled, settling down beside Kurt. "Of course. You should eat soon, though. Tash and I made stew."

"Tash..." Kurt murmured. "Killed Brec, you know. Tash did."

"I know."

"Not sure we can trust him, though, Blaine."

Blaine stroked Kurt's chest gently.

"I think he just wants a ride to Z'auli, Kurt. He stayed here and kept watch until I woke up. He could have left with the horses."

"Mmmm, I suppose."

"And do you know what else?" Blaine asked with a sly smile.

"Hmmm?"

"Having a third person to rotate watch with means that we can sleep together again." Blaine kissed Kurt's cheek. "I've missed holding you at night."

"Me too," Kurt sighed, attempting to snuggle closer. Blaine pulled him in so that he wouldn't have to expend his energy.

Kurt sighed contentedly and closed his eyes again.

Blaine felt Kurt's stomach rumble as he slid his palm across it.

"You need to eat, Kurt. Healing me took a lot out of you."

"Too tired to eat," Kurt mumbled.

"You won't get any less tired  _until_  you eat. Come on."

Kurt whimpered, flopping his head onto Blaine's chest with exaggerated effort. "Don't want food. Just want  _you,_  Blaine."

Blaine kissed Kurt's forehead. "Well, what if I carry you outside, and hold you while you eat? Then you can have both."

"Not a  _baby,"_  Kurt grumbled.

"No, you're not a baby. You're my hero. Let me show you how much it means to me by taking care of you."

Kurt managed a smirk, his hand sliding under Blaine's tunic and across his stomach. "Mmmm...I can think of  _another_  way to show me."

Blaine laughed. "Kurt, if you're too tired to eat then you're  _definitely_  too tired for that."

Kurt sighed. "Yeah. Just want to keep touching you, though. You're so  _warm."_

"Are you cold?" Blaine asked. Kurt shrugged slightly, but burrowed closer to Blaine.

Blaine moved to fetch their warmest blanket, which was folded up at the foot of the tent. Kurt whined pitifully.

"You're too far away," he whimpered.

"I'm right here, Kurt," Blaine said softly, crawling back toward him with the blanket.

"Hey," Blaine said with concern. There were tears in Kurt's eyes. "Kurt..."

"You're alive," Kurt said, looking at him. "Blaine, I was so  _scared..._ I just need you close right now. Please."

Blaine leaned down and planted soft kisses across Kurt's face. "I'm not going anywhere," he said.

Blaine wrapped Kurt in the blanket and carried him out to the fire that Tash had started. Kurt's protests over being carried were half-hearted at best, and before long he was snuggled against Blaine with an expression of pure bliss, seeming to forget any objections he may have had to start out with.

They sat by the fire and Kurt allowed Blaine to feed him, which surprised Blaine tremendously.

He had never seen Kurt in anything like this state before, and it was endearing. Blaine certainly preferred Kurt fierce and strong and acerbic overall, but it was also sweet to have this small, temporary exposure to an altogether vulnerable Kurt who allowed Blaine to take care of him.

It was simply another part of Kurt to love.

After he had eaten what Blaine deemed a reasonable amount, Kurt rested his head in the crook of Blaine's neck and sighed deeply. The warmth of the blanket and the fire and Blaine, together with the bit of stew in his stomach lulled Kurt back into an easy sleep.

Blaine looked over at Tash.

"You...you can stay in the tent when it's your turn to sleep if you want to..." Blaine began awkwardly.

Tash snorted. "Thank you but no. That tent is, uh...well, I believe it is strictly a two-man tent. Let's leave it at that."

Blaine looked slightly abashed.

Tash shrugged. "If you can spare some blankets, I'm happy to sleep outside. I can always clear some space in the carriage if it rains."

Blaine smiled. "Well. If you're sure."

Tash nodded. "Why don't you go ahead and lie down with Kurt right now. I'll wake you when I start to get tired."

"I...well...thank you. Just be sure to wake me as soon as you want to get some sleep. You've had less rest than I have recently."

Tash shrugged. "It's just nice to be out of that cage, to have some  _energy_  again. Go on. I'll be fine."

Blaine pondered Tash as he carried Kurt back to the tent. If the Sidhe had an angle, Blaine certainly couldn't figure it out.

Still. He would be glad to deposit him in Z'auli. Having him along was making Blaine a little bit uneasy.

Kurt was roused slightly when Blaine eased him onto the nest of blankets where they slept. He murmured Blaine's name and grabbed at his arms, seeming afraid that Blaine might be leaving him there alone. Blaine was pleased to note that his grip seemed a bit stronger than it had earlier.

Blaine pulled Kurt into his arms and simply lay there, enjoying the feeling of Kurt's body against his. "I love you," Blaine whispered into Kurt's hair. Kurt replied softly, his voice slurred with sleep, and it took Blaine a moment to decipher what it was he had said.

He had said I Love You as well. But he had said it in his native tongue.

They slept.

* * *

A few hours later, Blaine awoke to Tash's voice, and carried Kurt back outside so that Tash could get some sleep.

Blaine sat by the fire holding Kurt, his sword beside him. Thankfully it had been cleaned of most of his blood.

It was hard to not simply drift off again, the warmth of the fire and Kurt's soft breathing against him creating a very strong but undeniably false sense of safety. Blaine fought the urge, focusing instead on the way that the firelight danced across Kurt's delicate features, and running his hands through Kurt's soft brown hair.

Kurt finally woke up, and Blaine helped him find a place to relieve himself. There was no awkwardness or embarrassment; nothing but the complete comfort that they had come to feel with one another. Blaine realized that he had never in his life felt this completely at ease with another person before. And then he laughed at the context of the realization.

They made their way back to the fire, Kurt insisting on walking now, though he was still leaning on Blaine for support.

Once Kurt had settled back in front of the fire, Blaine hung the cauldron over it and brought Kurt some fruit and leaves to eat while they waited for the stew to heat.

"You've really become quite the nursemaid," Kurt said, snuggling back against Blaine as he sat down behind him.

"Well, I'm just glad that I finally have the opportunity to take care of  _you._  And I'm glad that you're letting me do it."

Kurt turned his head to kiss Blaine as his arms wound around Kurt's waist.

"You always take care of me, Blaine. We take care of each other."

Blaine pulled him back into his lap. "Yes we do. And I don't want us to stop. I want us to take care of each other forever."

"I want that too," Kurt said softly, leaning his head back onto Blaine's shoulder.

They sat in silence until the stew began to bubble, letting the words sway and echo between them. Now was not the time to finish this conversation, after all. Now was the time to keep things gentle and tender between them.

They ate, Blaine encouraged to see Kurt take two helpings of stew, and sat in comfortable silence with occasional murmured conversation until the sky began to pinken with the rising sun.

They heard Tash begin to stir on the other side of the fire, and then he was up, heating more stew and telling them to go on back to the tent to get some more rest.

They did go back to the tent. But, to Blaine's surprise, rest did not seem to be on the agenda just yet.

* * *

Blaine had just closed his eyes when he felt the press of warm lips against his neck and a smooth hand sliding up his bare abdomen. He blinked in surprise and turned his head to find himself staring into lust-darkened eyes.

"Kurt, aren't you..."

Kurt smiled. "Well, Blaine, if you don't mind taking a more active role this morning, I...just want you so much right now. I want to be as close to you as possible."

"I want that too," Blaine murmured, turning t o face him. "That is, if you're sure..."

Kurt laughed softly. "I'm sure. Just don't expect me to move too much."

Blaine laughed as well. "I think I can work with that."

Given the magnitude of Kurt's most recent healing, Blaine produced the red flowers quite easily, feeling incredibly grateful that Tash did not look over at him when he crept out of the tent to do so.

Kurt finished undressing himself just as Blaine returned, and Blaine quickly shed his own clothing as well. He lay down next to Kurt on his side, propped on an elbow, while Kurt gazed up at him, lying flat on his back.

Blaine smiled and unfurled a flower, drizzling the contents across Kurt's chest and stomach and groin, and then down his thighs. Kurt closed his eyes and sighed deeply as Blaine began to massage the oil into his skin, starting with his shoulders and slowly working his way down. By the time he reached the downy hair between Kurt's legs, they were both fully aroused.

"We should probably try to keep quiet," Blaine whispered into Kurt's ear. "Tash..."

Kurt nodded his assent, eyes still closed, breath ragged with pleasure.

Blaine took Kurt's length into his hand and began stroking slowly, watching Kurt arch his back and moan softly. Blaine decided that he would _never_  get enough of seeing Kurt this way, that it was simply not possible to ever lay eyes on anything sexier or more fulfilling.

Blaine paused just long enough to unfurl a second flower, and then resumed stroking Kurt with his right had while he dipped three fingers of his left into the newly opened flower.

He nudged Kurt's thighs apart with the back of his hand, and Kurt complied by spreading them wide. Blaine began to gently stroke Kurt's entrance, Kurt's breath catching on a stuttering squeak of pleasure.

As he began to push the first finger inside, Kurt groaned, low and deep, and opened his eyes to gaze at Blaine, glassy and unfocused.

"Blaine," he breathed. "Oh, Blaine, that feels...I love you...gods..."

Blaine leaned in to kiss his lips while both hands continued to work between Kurt's legs.

"I love you," Blaine said when he pulled back. "I just want to make you feel good, Kurt."

"So good.  _So_ good, Blaine. Please...more..."

Blaine slipped in a second finger, thrusting in more deeply and stroking the little pleasure-nub when he found it.

Kurt let out a piercing cry, and Blaine willed himself not to focus on the fact that Tash had  _definitely_  heard that, because nothing could be done about it now.

Besides, he really couldn't bring himself to actually ask Kurt to stop making noises like that. Not when those noises kept going straight to Blaine's cock.

Blaine added the third finger, thrusting and stretching until Kurt began whimpering and pleading for Blaine to make love to him.

Blaine slicked himself up, gasping at the feeling, knowing that he would never get entirely used to the sheer intensity of it. He gently ran his hands up Kurt's long legs, hooking his ankles over Blaine's shoulders as he pressed forward, sliding completely into Kurt in one fluid motion.

Kurt threw his arms behind his head and arched his back impossibly high, his moan of pleasure blending with Blaine's, and yeah, poor Tash. Because there was no  _way_  he could possibly think they were sleeping right now.

Unfortunately for Tash, however, the two men in the tent had moved well past any thoughts of his welfare as they began moving together, lost in nothing but the feel of their bodies merged in sheer ecstasy and blinding love.

Blaine grunted as he thrust into Kurt, planting erratic kisses to his neck and chest and face, his lips shimmering with flower-oil. He was utterly lost in the taut, slippery heat inside Kurt's body, in the slick, silken skin of his thighs against Blaine's hips.

And Kurt cried out again and again as the angle of Blaine's thrusts kept hitting that spot inside him every time, like bolts of lightning zinging through his body, and Blaine's warm skin and hot breath against him made him feel like he was  _home_  and  _alive_  and he never wanted it to end.

Kurt reached down to touch himself before realizing that he really didn't need to, that he didn't want to come just yet, so instead of stroking he squeezed himself at the base, holding off on his release, whimpering with delight as Blaine's thrusts grew harder and deeper, the jolts of pleasure more and more intense.

"Blaine," he breathed, "T-tell me when you're getting close."

Blaine responded with a deep moan, pressing his face into Kurt's neck, his full lips causing a kiss-shaped glow of sensation to bloom across his throat.

Kurt buried the fingers of his free hand into Blaine's hair, gently holding his head in place and gasping as Blaine continued to slide in and out of him.

"Kurt," Blaine groaned, muffled, against the flesh of his neck. "I'm...I'm going to..."

"Yes," Kurt whispered, and released the grip on his own erection, giving himself four firm strokes before completely coming undone, wailing Blaine's name with no thought to his volume, clenching down around Blaine's final, deep thrust, the end of Blaine's name overlapping with the beginning of Kurt's as Blaine found his own release.

Blaine gently lowered Kurt's legs and fell on top of him, hearts thudding against one another.

Their breathing slowly returned to normal, their heartbeats calming to a soft, comfortable rhythm, and Blaine finally whispered "I love you," and Kurt said it back, lifting Blaine's chin to kiss him.

They almost fell asleep like that, but eventually Kurt began shifting uncomfortably beneath Blaine's weight, the shifting making Blaine realize that he was far too sensitive to stay inside of Kurt, no matter how much, in theory, he never wanted to leave.

Blaine cleaned them up with water from their flask and their last clean cloth, and then lay back down beside Kurt, pulling him close.

Kurt was mostly asleep when Blaine settled in beside him, but he moved instinctively into Blaine's embrace.

"Blaine," he mumbled, his voice thick and dreamlike, "don't ever leave me again."

"I won't," Blaine replied, "but you have to promise me the same." He gazed over at Kurt to see his reaction.

But Kurt was already asleep.


	22. Chapter 22

Tash was surprised to see Kurt emerge from the tent before Blaine, several hours after the rather obvious sounds of their lovemaking had ceased.

Kurt still had a blanket wrapped around him, and he yawned deeply as he sat down next to Tash by the ever-present fire.

"Why did you tell Blaine you were weak?" Kurt asked, watching the flames dance. "This is really quite good."

Tash shrugged. "It's more or less the truth. I'm good with close-range fire, but that's about it. Teaching was what I excelled at, but there isn't much opportunity for that here."

"No," Kurt agreed thoughtfully, "though that may be changing sooner than you think, Tash. At least if I have anything to say about it."

Tash glanced over at him in surprise. "You...you're not going to stay with Blaine, then? I thought, I mean it seems like you two are..." Tash trailed off as he studied the look on Kurt's face.

"I love him," Kurt admitted softly. "But before...all I knew of Villalu came from border town excursions as a child, and I didn't even see what was really happening there, let alone outside the city walls. When I was captured...There came a point at which I started to believe that I was going to die in slavery. I was considering how I might take my own life when Blaine found me. If it hadn't been for him..."

Kurt drew his knees to his chest and propped his chin on them. Tash continued to watch him silently.

"No one deserves it, Tash. I don't care what they may have done,  _no one_  deserves slavery. The non-interference doctrine goes too far."

Tash tilted his head and made a noise of assent. "That may be true, Kurt, but do you really think you can change  _that_? It's been in place for millennia. It's an immutable doctrine."

"Well, Tash, tell me this. How long have humans been keeping Sidhe slaves?"

"Not that long, really. About two thousand years, since the Followers of Frilau came into power."

"But why? What could be the justification?"

"Well, how much do you know about the Followers of Frilau, Kurt?"

Kurt sighed. "Very little. Brec may not have been right about much, but the picture he painted of me at home in my feririar was uncomfortably accurate. When it comes to historical knowledge, I'm as ignorant as a pixie."

Tash pursed his lips bitterly. "You should be grateful for what ignorance you were able to enjoy. The Followers of Frilau believe that slavery is the only way to save the souls of Sidhe. Frilau was the leader of a militant fundamentalist group that splintered off from the followers of the Blessed Guardian of the Sands. They believe that we are an evil folk, given the thousands of years that we kept humans under compulsion, and that suffering slavery ourselves is the only way to pay penance. They were nothing but a small, fringe cult for a very long time. No one took them seriously. Well, not until they slaughtered half the Blessed Guardian's followers in Villalu and rose to power, anyhow."

Kurt stared at him in horror.

"This all happened  _after_  the non-interference doctrine was established."

"Yes."

"But...didn't anyone...?"

"Of course. A group of Sidhe followers of the Blessed Guardian went so far as to establish their own republic in protest, where they welcomed humans as equal partners in governance. Of course, the only way to keep such a place truly safe was to build it in Sidhe country. So it's always been a bit of a struggle for humans to get to it, and it doesn't really do the Sidhe in Villalu much good. Lovely idea, though."

"Are you...you're talking about Khryslee, aren't you?"

Tash laughed. "See now? You're not as ignorant as you thought."

"Don't patronize me."

Tash smiled and shrugged. "Oh come, now. How often does someone like me get the opportunity to patronize someone like you? Have some compassion."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Well, surely there must have been more outcry than that? How was the non-interference doctrine maintained when the humans were making us into  _slaves_  over here?"

Tash smiled a smile that shot chills down Kurt's spine.

"The execution of the non-interference doctrine of course comes down to the Queendom of the Eastern Border Lands. And lovely Queen Loq believed ever so strongly that since the only Sidhe in Villalu were either those that chose to live with the risk or those that had been exiled for severe crimes, there was no reason to formally protest the policy. In fact, she seemed to believe that it created an added  _deterrent_ to crime. Her daughter Gira was of the same mindset."

Kurt swallowed hard. "And Gira's son...?"

Tash smiled. "Ah, yes, the child King. Pity about dear Gira, wasn't it?" His was a tone of vicious delight. "You know, I was e- that is, I left shortly after she died. I don't know much about him at all, other than the fact that he was painfully young." Tash sighed. "But what concern is it of mine anymore? Let the whole realm burn down for all I care."

Kurt tried to breathe normally.

Because Tash had just confirmed everything that Kurt had been marginally confident was true.

He tried not to allow himself to feel the sick flood of disappointment and heartbreak that washed over him. He had no right to think about his own happiness. This was not about him. This was much bigger than him. This was about all the Sidhe in Villalu.

Tash studied him, his lips twitching slightly.

"You're really going to do it, aren't you?"

"What are you talking about?"

Tash rolled his eyes. "You're going to try and cozy up to the child King."

"Um, something like that, I suppose," Kurt said, sounding like he was fighting back a bubble of laughter.

"Well, you're pretty enough. Powerful enough. It will never work, though."

"Why not?" Kurt asked, still sounding slightly amused.

Tash gave Kurt a level look. "Because you're never going to be able to leave Blaine."

In the tent, Blaine lay and listened to the elves' voices.

Their native tongue really was beautiful. It didn't even matter what they were saying; Blaine thought he could listen to it all day.

* * *

They decided that they would leave for Z'auli the following morning.

After Blaine got up and the three men had eaten, they prepared their bedclothes and garments for washing in a nearby creek, Kurt seeming to suddenly regress to a much weaker state when the task was initiated, sighing that perhaps he still hadn't fully recovered his strength from _saving Blaine's life_  after all.

Blaine smiled to himself as he and Tash took the washing down to the creek, leaving Kurt to prepare the next meal. He knew how much Kurt hated doing laundry, after all.

Blaine only regretted his easy compliance with Kurt's obvious manipulation when he casually asked Tash what he had been exiled for.

"Murder," Tash said simply. "My husband took a lover."

Blaine stared at him.

"You...you killed your husband?"

Blaine wondered if Tash would still be able to light him on fire if he submerged himself completely in the stream.

Tash looked aghast. "No! Of  _course_  not! I would never do that to  _him._ I...I loved him. It was that horrible boy he was cavorting with. I killed  _him._ Burned him alive."

Tash sounded terrifyingly calm. Blaine very much wished that Kurt was with them. He didn't like being alone with Tash when there was that glint in his eye.

"You...but...that's just so...you actually  _killed_  him?"

Blaine had killed before too, but only to defend his own life or that of someone he loved.

Tash looked slightly confused. "Wouldn't you kill anyone that touched Kurt?"

"Well, if they were  _hurting_  him I would, but if he chose to...to be with someone else, I would be heartbroken but I wouldn't kill anyone. Maybe I'd hit the guy. But I wouldn't kill him."

Tash snorted. "You, my friend, are  _not_  a Sidhe."

"Well...true..."

"If it were the other way around, Kurt would kill the man. I'm sure of it."

"He didn't kill  _you,_  though."

Tash sighed. "Yeah...why do you think I ran so fast when I saw that bottle of essence? Do you realize that I ran halfway to the city walls in nothing but my undershorts?" Tash laughed. "And  _you_  were only his human. I didn't even realize that he thought of you...like that."

Blaine raised his eyebrows. "Like what?"

"Like...like a husband. He hasn't even gone on a soul-walk and he already looks at you like you're his lifemate."

Blaine felt his breath catch.

_He looks at you like you're his lifemate._

Kurt's  _lifemate._

Blaine was stunned into a dreamy silence for several minutes, just absorbing the impact of hearing another person say those words.

Blaine didn't know what he wanted to do with his future. He had settled on Khryslee because it sounded like a place free from many of the societal ills that couldn't be avoided in Villalu, and on the thin hope, before Kurt had ever shown any true romantic inclination toward him, that he and Kurt might somehow end up there together.

But he realized one thing suddenly and clearly when he heard Tash's words. Something that he had known was true for a very long time but hadn't let himself say, even inside his own head.

He wanted to be Kurt's lifemate. It was the only thing he wanted with complete conviction. Absolutely everything else in his life was negotiable.

Then Tash's words drifted back to him.

_He hasn't even gone on a soul-walk and-_

Oh. But Kurt  _had_  gone on a soul-walk. He had gone on a soul-walk and emerged completely and utterly ready to marry another man. A man who wasn't Blaine.

A man who was also a Sidhe, and probably gorgeous, and who had grown up with Kurt and knew far more intimate things about Kurt's life than Blaine probably ever would.

A man Kurt was going to see again when they crossed the border.

And for a brief moment that he wasn't proud of, Blaine had nothing but the deepest empathy for Tash's crime.

"Blaine?"

Tash had the look of someone who had only just realized that Blaine wasn't currently listening to him.

"Oh...sorry. I was a bit lost in thought. What did you say?"

Tash smiled a bit self-consciously, focusing intently on getting a spot out of the cloth he was cleaning.

"I was just saying...I mean, I've been  _wanting_  to say...that I'm sorry, Blaine. For...you know."

Blaine looked at him. "Are you?"

Tash sighed and ventured a glance at Blaine out of the corner of his eye. "Yes. I am. I...this isn't an excuse, so don't treat it like one, okay? I just...I really didn't think of it as r-r-r-"

"Rape?"

"Right. I didn't. I always thought...or I guess I never thought about what it might be like. For you. Humans just seem so  _happy_  when they're compelled, and you're such an  _unhappy_  people most of the time, and the only other people I've heard talk about it like it's slavery are religious zealots, so I just...I didn't know, Blaine. I'm sorry."

Blaine's face had softened into an almost-smile.

"Thank you, Tash."

Tash's gaze darted back down to the now-nonexistent spot on the cloth he was washing.

"I'm just glad you didn't get any further before Kurt stopped you or he  _would_  have killed you."

Tash let out a bark of laughter. "I know," he said, and it wasn't lighthearted or a joke at all.

* * *

Kurt was holding back on using his power until it was more fully restored so that he didn't strain himself, so he gratefully let Tash take over the fire when he and Blaine returned from doing the washing.

They ate a supper of fried mushrooms and stale bread that tasted quite good once it had been toasted over the fire, as well as sliced apples and pears.

Tash talked about Z'auli, which he had been to before, and considered his options with regard to possible employment. He seemed a little nervous to be going forth alone, but there was also a slight edge of excitement in his voice.

It wasn't clear if he noticed how quiet Blaine and Kurt were being.

The next day they would reach Z'auli. After they parted ways with Tash, it would only be a day's journey to the clearing where they would cross the border.

They ate one-handed, fingers interlaced, ignoring the awkwardness of the action in favor of the prolonged physical contact.

Because suddenly it was becoming so real. Suddenly every question, every fear was climbing toward the surface, pushing at the skin of this delicate thing that they had created together.

They had known it was going to happen. Both of them had shed tears over it. Each of them had lost sleep over it. But it had been an eventuality. Something they could push to the back of their minds and hearts because right now they were together.

They didn't let go of one another's hands. They wouldn't. They couldn't.

Because they were all too aware that before long, they could be grasping at nothing but air.


	23. Chapter 23

They left Tash in Z'auli with a sizeable share of the weapons and other items of value they had stolen from the slave-traders. It would amount to enough in trade to support Tash until he was able to find some means of supporting himself.

It was an odd farewell.

It wasn't exactly as if Tash had become their friend, but it wasn't as if he were entirely other than a friend either. Neither of them completely trusted him, but neither of them wanted to see him come to any harm either.

Blaine believed that Tash had and would continue to change. He gave Tash a tight and sincere hug when they said goodbye.

Kurt was less sure. But Tash had saved Kurt, which had allowed Kurt to save Blaine. And he had also saved Kurt the trouble of killing Brec. So Kurt reasoned that Tash deserved a shot, if nothing else, at a better kind of life. Kurt gave Tash's shoulder a firm squeeze before he and Blaine departed.

"Thank you," Tash said humbly, fidgeting slightly in front of the inn where the three of them had chosen to part ways. He looked up and took a deep breath.

"Take care of each other," he said. Blaine smiled and squeezed Kurt's hand. Kurt bit his lip and tried to smile as well, but didn't quite succeed. Tash sighed.

"I'm sorry, Blaine," he said before slipping into Elfin tongue.

"Kurt, please soul-walk about him before you make a decision," he said.

Kurt's eyes narrowed, and he seemed torn between replying to what Tash was saying and admonishing him for speaking Elfin at all in front of Blaine.

"I would do anything to be with my lifemate again, Kurt.  _Anything._ This isn't the sort of thing you can just walk away from. Just...be with him while he lasts in this world. The world will keep for a century or two."

When Kurt's eyes met Tash, there was no anger. There was only grief. He didn't explain, but Tash shrugged and nodded.

"Good luck to both of you," Tash finished in Villaluan. He smiled, perhaps a bit sadly, and headed toward the inn.

* * *

"What did Tash say to you?" Blaine asked as they headed out of Z'auli.

Kurt shrugged. "Just...advice about going home, I suppose."

_Home._

It wasn't the firs time he had heard Kurt call it that. Of course it  _would_  be home for Kurt, that much should have been obvious, but Blaine hadn't really thought about it that way because for him, home was simply  _Kurt._

Blaine had already lost N'auri. And now he might have to lose Kurt too.

"What...kind of advice?" Blaine ventured.

Kurt sighed, looking away, ready to deflect.

"Kurt, we're going to have to talk about this sometime," Blaine said softly.

Kurt turned back to him. "I know, Blaine. I already told you, once we cross the border..."

"Yeah," Blaine mumbled. "I know. I just...how far is it, Kurt? I feel like I'm just riding along, trying to enjoy the scenery on the way to my own execution."

"Don't say that," Kurt said quickly, tightening the hand that was holding Blaine's while he held the reins in the other.

"I'm sorry, I just-"

"Blaine, I know. I'm sorry too. I'm not trying to be cruel, but – well, with Tash here, and the detour to Z'auli - it was a distraction. But the truth is that now we're back on the path that I know, and the answer to your question is that we aren't far at all, and I can really only manage one source of emotional overload at a time."

Blaine swallowed and looked at Kurt shamefully. "Oh, Kurt, I didn't mean...I know how hard this is for you. I shouldn't have..."

"It's fine, Blaine, Kurt said softly, giving him a reassuring smile.

Blaine disentangled his hand from Kurt's and leaned into him, wrapping his arm around Kurt's waist.

They rode in silence for most of the day. Neither could think of anything to say that wouldn't make everything hurt more.

Late that afternoon, Blaine woke without realizing he had been sleeping. Kurt's arm was curled around him and Blaine's head was on his shoulder. Blaine groaned at the stiffness in his neck as he sat up properly.

Kurt gave him a fond smile, his eyes glittering with amusement.

"What?" Blaine mumbled as he stretched.

"You just...your face is pink where you were lying on me, and I can see the weave of my tunic pressed into your skin. And your hair is..." Kurt didn't even have to say. Blaine knew how his curly hair flattened into odd shapes when he slept. Kurt laughed softly as Blaine began tugging it impatiently back into shape.

"It's very cute," Kurt said, leaning in to kiss Blaine's cheek where it was still warm and tingly from being pressed against Kurt.

Blaine pursed his lips slightly and gave Kurt a shy smile that made Kurt's heart drop to his knees and then leap back into his throat.

Their hands found one another.

Blaine squinted, then rubbed his eyes with his free hand, convinced that they were still thick with sleep. Because what he saw ahead of them was...incredibly strange.

It looked like a dome, the size of a large palace, made out of something like water but more like steam and a bit like the way the air takes on a wavy appearance on a very hot day.

It was hard to look directly at it, but impossible to look away.

When the dome was still there after blinking several times, Blaine turned to Kurt.

Kurt was gazing at the dome with a strange expression on his face, something between dread and longing. And he was steering them directly toward it.

"Kurt, what...?" Blaine allowed his voice to slowly trail off as they got closer to the dome and more details became apparent, such as the swirls of violet that raced across the surface of the dome, if there was even a surface to be had, and the strange rhythm to the warm breeze that began to pulsate around them, and the strange, sleepy feeling that seemed to be washing over him, even though he had just taken quite a long nap...

Kurt squeezed his hand. "Blaine, do you remember when I told you about what I was doing when the slave traders got me? The Nuptial Rite?"

Blaine nodded.

"Well, this was my destination." Kurt smiled. "It's the safest place I know. I think we should sleep here tonight."

Blaine was fighting to keep his eyes open. "I...thought you said it was a sacred site?" He mumbled.

"It is a sacred site, but that doesn't mean we can't stay there. I think you might really like it, Blaine."

Blaine found himself suddenly too exhausted to hold his head up, and slumped against Kurt, his head falling onto Kurt's shoulder.

"Mm so  _tired,_  Kurt," he sighed.

He was half asleep when he felt Kurt shake him violently. Blaine's eyes snapped open in alarm.

They had pulled to a stop. Kurt was holding his shoulders and staring at him with a very serious expression on his face.

"Blaine. Listen to me very carefully. You can  _not_  fall asleep until we get inside the dome."

Blaine whimpered. The dome seemed so far away. Kurt may as well have told not to fall asleep for a solid week.

Kurt brought one of his hands to Blaine's chin, nudging it upward until Blaine was looking him in the eye.

"Blaine. I know...I've heard this can happen. And it's going to be the same at the border, but stronger. You need to hold my hand  _tight_  and not let go, and you need to stay awake. Do you understand?"

Blaine nodded miserably.

"Okay," Kurt said nervously.

Blaine held onto Kurt's hand as they started moving again. It was obvious that Kurt was urging the horses faster as Blaine struggled to stay conscious.

Whenever his grip seemed to slacken, Kurt would give Blaine's hand a hard squeeze.

Blaine thought he had accidentally lapsed into sleep after all when Kurt's skin started to glow, but then he remembered that Kurt did that sometimes, when he was using his power, and then Blaine was glowing too, and then the horses and the carriage were also enveloped in the soft green glow.

Kurt squeezed his hand so hard, Blaine was positive he must have broken some bones. His half-lidded eyes popped open with a yelp.

"Kurt! You're  _hurting_  me!"

"I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you. But I don't want you slipping off into another dimension either."

Blaine whipped his head around so that he could gape at Kurt properly.  _"What?"_

"Just hold on tight," Kurt said through clenched teeth, and he gripped Blaine's hand even harder as they surged forward.

* * *

For a moment there was nothing. No color, no texture, no depth and no sound. They had no bodies.

Except they must have had bodies, because Blaine's hand definitely hurt.

Because Kurt was squeezing it.

And then a blur of every color imaginable, and endless, screaming tunnels whipping out in every direction...

And then they were in the most beautiful clearing Blaine had ever seen.

He could see the walls of the dome from the inside as well, but here they had taken on a much calmer and more muted quality. They looked more like heavily frosted glass, blurred around the edges, than something writhing and pulsating and alive. The clearing itself consisted of a carpet of soft, vivid grass of green and violet and amber and rust. Off in the distance a bit was a babbling brook that Blaine had seen absolutely no evidence of outside of the dome. And there were the strangest trees...

No. They weren't trees. They were flowers.

The entire clearing was absolutely filled with flowers, from the tiniest and most delicate blossoms imaginable hiding shyly behind blades of grass to towering stalks as thick around as ten men and reaching almost to the top of the dome.

And there were birds, because Blaine could hear them, and the rustling amongst the trees – amongst the  _flowers_  hinted at other animal life as well. Blaine gasped when what he at first presumed was a dragonfly landed on his finger. Because it wasn't a dragonfly. It looked something like a miniscule cross between a Sidhe and a human, but with round black eyes barely rimmed by the thinnest band of gold imaginable, and no body hair whatsoever, and it was dappled blue and green and yellow, with delicately patterned translucent wings.

It sat on Blaine's finger, swinging its legs like a child on a tree branch, hands braced on either side of its hips, and gave Blaine a look of earnest appraisal.

Blaine remained absolutely frozen, afraid that the slightest twitch might somehow crush the tiny creature.

"What  _is_  it?" He breathed, barely moving his lips.

Kurt gave a small, delighted laugh at the wonder in Blaine's eyes.

"It's a pixie, Blaine."

"Does it...can it talk?"

Kurt shrugged a bit, then rested his chin on Blaine's shoulder, peering down at the little faerie.

"Not so that you or I could understand. There are those that study them. I believe they do communicate, though their language is much, much simpler than yours or mine. They tend to be very curious. I imagine that you are the first human this one would have ever seen."

And sure enough, the pixie had soon fluttered to Blaine's ear, tugging insistently at the top of it. Like Kurt, the pixie's ears were also pointed, and it seemed utterly intrigued by the shape.

Blaine squirmed a bit as the tiny hands prodded at him and the fluttering wings tickled his ear.

"Hey!" He cried out, laughing, as the creature began to climb inside of his ear to look around.

Kurt reached over to pull the creature out between two fingers when it seemed determined to explore more deeply.

"Kurt! Be careful!"

Kurt laughed lightly. "They're tougher than they look, Blaine. I'm not hurting it."

Just as Kurt had said, the pixie did not appear injured when Kurt dropped it into his palm. It did look somewhat indignant, however, and Blaine laughed at the haughty expression on the tiny face. The pixie opened its mouth and seemed to be launching into some sort of tirade, which only registered as barely audible squeaking to Blaine. Then, as if it had made its point, it turned and flew off.

Blaine turned to Kurt, beaming. "Kurt...this  _place..."_

Kurt smiled back. "I know. You haven't seen the best part yet, though."

The horses began to lead them toward the center of the clearing at a steady walk, and it was then that Blaine realized he wasn't tired any more. In fact, if anything, he felt incredibly energized.

And...well...more than energized. He looked at Kurt and absolutely couldn't believe that they weren't both naked, that he wasn't spread out beneath him on the impossibly soft-looking grass. Without even realizing he was doing it, he placed his hand on Kurt's upper thigh and squeezed gently.

Kurt turned to him with a giddy laugh, his eyes just as dark with lust as Blaine's must have been.

"I know, Blaine," he murmured. "You can feel it too, can't you?"

Blaine's throat was dry. He swallowed hard. "Yeah," he said shakily. "What is – I mean, I always want you, but what is this?"

Kurt told him what it was, but it was unpronounceable and Elfin.

Hearing Kurt say it was also one of the hottest things Blaine had ever heard.

"Say that again," he purred, and began sucking gently at Kurt's neck.

Kurt gasped out the word again, groaning hard at the end.

Blaine let the hand on Kurt's thigh slip between his legs, and was unsurprised to find Kurt fully aroused.

"Blaine...gods...no, we have to stop."

Blaine moved his hand to Kurt's knee and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you serious? Why don't you just stop the carriage? That grass looks nice and soft, though I frankly wouldn't care if it were full of thorns right now."

Kurt looked like he was literally shaking from the sheer self-control he was exerting.

"It...we will, Blaine. But this is a very important shrine. It requires a specific sort of offering, and the ritual behind it is very important."

Blaine was confused, but before he could ask for clarification, he was struck silent by the sight before him.

They had rounded a cluster of flowering shrubs and flower-trees, to reveal an enormous statue of a Sidhe woman.

If  _statue_  were even the correct word. She did seem to be crafted of some sort of stone, but the flowering vines that wrapped around her seemed as essential a part of the structure as the stone itself. The vines wove themselves into an immaculate multi-colored flowing robe, which hung off her shoulders artfully to reveal her incredibly plump and voluptuous breasts, hips, stomach and thighs. Blaine had never seen a Sidhe that looked like that before. True, he had seen far fewer females than males, but they had all been so slim and lithe. It suited the statue incredibly well, however, and Blaine couldn't help but think he would find the image arousing if he were differently inclined.

Of course, Blaine was pretty much finding  _everything_  arousing at that particular moment.

The statue's face was soft and rounded, her eyes managed to somehow look both dreamy and piercing, and her lips were parted as if in pleasure. Her hair flowed around her and bounced in the wind, and it was also made of flowering vines that seemed to actually be growing out of the statue's head.

Her hair was intensely scarlet. Blaine was so fixated on the awesome beauty of the entire effect that it took him a few moments to realize that her hair was made entirely out of their flowers...well, but these looked a bit different. They were redder and more swollen with oil than the ones either he or Kurt had produced themselves.

Kurt was obviously not surprised by the statue, but he looked as awe-struck as Blaine felt. Kurt climbed down from the perch, gently pulling Blaine behind him, and they approached the statue.

She was at the top of a small hill, and they climbed a set of low stone steps to reach her. Before her was a bed of mosses and flower petals. Kurt knelt and Blaine mimicked the action.

Kurt repeated the word he had said earlier, and Blaine knew that he was referring to the figure represented in the statue. "She is Mother of All. The Sacred Whore. I always felt a special affinity for her, but I suppose...even more so now."

"Kurt..." Blaine said gently, squeezing his hand.

Kurt looked at Blaine briefly, knowing they would begin clawing one another's clothes off if he let his gaze linger too long. He smiled.

"No, Blaine, I don't mean...it doesn't have the same connotation amongst the Sidhe as it does amongst humans. Whores are amongst our most powerful and revered spiritual leaders. To be with one is an honor that few ever experience. I was referring to her story."

Blaine smiled encouragingly, also making sure not to look at Kurt for too long, even though his head was literally spinning at the notion of whores being  _revered spiritual leaders._  It was so unlike anything he had ever heard before in absolutely any way.

"Legend tells that she came from another world," Kurt continued softly. "She was a slave there, used for the pleasure of men. She suffered for many, many years, slowly storing away bits of power in the prison where she slept. One day she finally overpowered her captors, and killed them all mercilessly." Kurt laughed shortly. "The original story is quite a bit more descriptive, but I think you've already seen what that kind of thing looks like."

Blaine laughed too. That he had.

"She found a doorway into another world, and slipped through. When she found herself in this world, she was alone and heavily pregnant in a barren, empty landscape. But even though the world was ugly and her situation was desperate, she was  _free._  And she was so happy to be free that she began to pleasure herself. And her pleasure was so powerful that she began to birth all the beauty in the world. And then, when the world was full of streams and flowers and stars and sunsets, she began birthing all the elfin races. Humans, too, Blaine. You  _are_  one of us, you know."

Blaine gazed at the statue as Kurt told the story, amazed at how she almost seemed  _alive._

"And then," Kurt continued, "after a thousand years had passed, she began to mate with the Sidhe,and from those unions she birthed all of the other creatures of the world, and that is why we do not eat animals. Because they are our children."

"Well, yes, but the Sidhe are her children too, Kurt, and she...uh..."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "It's a  _story,_  Blaine. It isn't literal truth. Sidhe do not have sex with our own children."

Blaine blushed and laughed nervously. "No, I didn't think...I wasn't saying..."

"It is our very first and most sacred story, though. Most do not hold such an affinity for The Mother after childhood, however. I always have...I suppose it might be because I lost my own mother at such a young age. The Mother was always such a comfort to me. And now I think my affinity for her is even greater. After..."

Blaine pulled Kurt to him instinctively, to comfort him, momentarily forgetting about that  _something_  that seemed to permeate the area around the statue, making each of them feel like a living erogenous zone.

"Oh...I...I'm sorry..." Blaine stuttered, unsure of whether he should let Kurt go or keep drawing him closer.

Kurt took a deep breath. "We should...make our offering."

"Is it...a sexy offering?" Blaine asked tentatively.

Kurt laughed. "Very much so."

"Kurt,  _what_  is it that's...doing this to us?"

Kurt pointed to the vines trailing from The Mother's head. "Those vines have been growing there since that statue was built, which is many thousands of years. The flowers replenish when they are plucked, but the power in the vines..." Kurt shuddered.

"The vines emit...whatever that feeling is. And everyone who visits must give a gift of pleasure to The Sacred Whore, and some believe the offerings themselves strengthen the feeling as well." Kurt turned to Blaine then, and Blaine's breath caught at the intensity in his gaze.

"I've always wanted to come here with someone, Blaine."

"What – did you do when you came here on your own?" Blaine almost couldn't stand to ask the question, because he was fairly sure that he wouldn't survive the answer.

"I pleasured myself."

Blaine groaned and fell forward a bit, clutching at Kurt. The thought of Kurt lying on a bed of mosses at the foot of this statue, naked and touching himself, very nearly made Blaine pass out.

Kurt stood up and pulled Blaine with him, and then headed toward the steps, away from the statue. "Come on."

Blaine looked at him in horror.

"But..I thought we were going to..."

Kurt stepped back and looked at the ground, breathing heavily.

"Gods, Blaine, you sound so..." Kurt took a few more deep breaths. "We are. But we must start with the ritual bathing."

"I  _hate_  the ritual bathing," Blaine whined. "I don't care if we're dirty. I  _like_ it when we're dirty."

Kurt choked back what sounded like an actual sob. He bit his lip and headed down the stairs, too overcome with blind lust to respond to or even look at Blaine at all.

When they got to the creek, they were far enough from the statue that they were suffering decidely less. They freed the horses and climbed into the cool creek near a cluster of bushes covered in puffy white flowers. Kurt grabbed a handful of the flowers and rubbed them between his wet hands, creating something like a lather. He began to smooth it across Blaine's chest, and then his arms, lifting them and scrubbing thoroughly.

"These are the flowers that were in those Elfin soaps we got in S'aufa," Kurt said as he continued to wash Blaine. He looked into Blaine's eyes. "This ritual isn't meant to be taken lightly, Blaine. The Mother is only appeased by acts of beauty and love. Self-love or lovemaking. Just sex won't do."

Blaine smiled. "Then it's probably for the best that we never have  _just_  sex."

"Yes, well, that was why I was insisting we do this properly. It means a lot to me that we do."

"I know, Kurt," Blaine answered, kissing him softly and briefly. "Tell me what we're going to do."

"Well," Kurt said, sounding a bit breathless," "first we wash each other. Then we anoint each other with oil from another type of flower."

"You Sidhe and your flowers," chuckled Blaine.

Kurt smiled. "Then...then we make love at the base of the shrine."

"I think that's going to be my favorite part," Blaine whispered into Kurt's ear.

"Blaine, I should warn you...those flowers on the shrine, they're extremely intense."

"Kurt, please stop talking about it while you're naked and wet and I can't do anything about it," Blaine groaned. "It's cruel."

Kurt smirked a bit as he lathered up some more blossoms and moved around Blaine to start washing his back. Blaine could feel the heat of Kurt's body, and once or twice he felt the brush of what  _had_ to be Kurt's erection. Blaine groaned again.

Because really, everything Kurt did or said was going to feel cruel until he was buried inside of Blaine.

After they had finished bathing, Kurt led Blaine back toward the shrine. They stopped at a flower-tree with a sunburst-yellow canopy. Coiled around the trunk (Blaine couldn't bring himself to think of it as merely a  _stem_ ) was a vine bearing deep purple flowers that looked quite a bit like the red ones that aided in their lovemaking. Blaine asked if they were the same sort of flower.

"They're definitely related," Kurt said, shooing away a pixie. "But this one will help...keep things steady."

Kurt began first again, rubbing the oil into Blaine's skin, not skipping a single inch between his throat and his toes. This was considerably more torturous than the bathing, of course, because Kurt did give him several firm strokes, struggling not to simply continue when Blaine shuddered against him and made soft sounds of pleasure.

Blaine did notice that the oil had an effect, though. It didn't dull his senses, it simply made him feel more sensual overall. It didn't make his skin tingle like the red flowers did, but rather settled into his skin and made each of Kurt's touches feel deep and rich and like he could just keep melting into them forever and ever.

He understood what Kurt meant about this oil helping to keep things "steady." Blaine felt like he and Kurt could probably make slow, gentle love for hours and hours with this oil on their skin.

Kurt sighed into Blaine's touch when it was his turn to anoint Kurt with the oil. Blaine definitely noticed the difference in himself as he rubbed Kurt's silken skin and made it gleam. If he hadn't been rubbed into relaxation himself just moments before, he was fairly sure he would have come simply from running his hands across Kurt's body this close to the shrine.

When they finally found themselves at the foot of the statue, it was if they were in a shared altered state, the lust-inducing vines from the statue rolling through them in waves, deliciously tempered by the mellow, sensual contentment in their oiled bodies. Kurt stood on The Mother's foot and reached up to pluck a single plump red flower from one of the vines flowing from her head. When he turned around, Blaine was already spread out on the bed of mosses in front of the statue. Kurt's breath caught in his throat and he had to close his eyes for a moment so that his knees didn't buckle at the sight.

No matter what happened between them, and no matter what happened in Kurt's life, he would always have this.  _They_  would always have this.

Kurt lowered himself into the soft moss beside Blaine, and they finally allowed their eyes to not only meet but linger. Kurt touched Blaine's face with his fingertips, tracing the contours like he loved to do. Blaine sighed happily, but did not close his eyes like he normally did. He kept his eyes fixed on Kurt's.

Blaine began running his fingertips down Kurt's side, ghosting across his hip, dipping around to lightly trace the crease where his thigh began.

They continued stroking softly with fingertips, their eyes locked as if by some physical force, the torture of it hanging sweet and strong and timeless between them.

The change came when it became necessary to kiss. It was Blaine who surrendered to it first, and when he pressed his lips to Kurt's he felt it in waves throughout his entire body, and he groaned and pulled Kurt flush against him and opened his mouth. Their tongues slid together with such perfection that neither of them could imagine how they managed to live life without being connected like this all the time.

The kiss deepened impossibly, and neither of them seemed entirely aware that the hands on one another's bodies were becoming decidedly bolder and needier. Blaine held the back of Kurt's head with one hand and cupped his ass with the other, pulling Kurt against him closer, closer, closer, trying to find a way to create more contact between them.

And Kurt's hands were mirroring Blaine's, except that he had also allowed a finger to drift toward the heat of Blaine's entrance, and he began to softly stroke the puckered opening, making Blaine shake and clutch him tighter and moan into his mouth.

There was nothing sudden about the need. It built up slowly, achingly so, as each nerve ending was prodded from softly glowing warm coal to snapping, writhing ball of flame, as touches turned to licks and bites and suction, and rocking turned to grinding and thrusting, and when Kurt finally pulled away from Blaine and steadied his hands enough to unfurl the bright red flower, Blaine was whimpering and writhing and bucking his hips, unable to hold still even if he had wanted to, which he really didn't, because just  _moving,_  even without Kurt against him, relieved a small edge of the desperation boiling in his bloodstream.

Kurt dipped his fingers in the oil, gasping at the sensation, and stared at Blaine. Stared shamelessly as Blaine writhed, making tiny cries of need and watching Kurt like he was all that existed in the world.

"I love you," Kurt whispered. Blaine gazed up at him with unmasked adoration.

"I love you," he said, his voice a strained croak.

It was good that they said it then. Because when Kurt touched Blaine's opening with a single oil-slicked finger, it was instantly clear that words had become far too complex a concept to handle.

Kurt stroked slowly, and Blaine panted in short, harsh gasps, overwhelmed and almost unable to withstand the sheer magnitude of pleasure he was experiencing. Kurt slowly moved the finger inside of Blaine, and Blaine simply threw his head back and screamed, throwing his legs as wide open as he possibly could and arching into Kurt's touch.

Kurt worked him open slowly, and even though he was blazing with need, he was utterly fixated on the sight before him, the way Blaine was sobbing and squirming and muttering gibberish, his eyes rolled back in his head, his erection dripping onto his stomach.

When Kurt finally felt like he was going to go blind from the sheer magnitude of watching Blaine fall apart like this, he knelt between Blaine's legs, and slicked himself up, letting out a yell at the sensation of the oil on his member.

Kurt lifted Blaine slightly as he sunk into him, and Blaine screamed with joy at the sensation, wrapping his legs around Kurt's waist and gripping his shoulders tight.

When Kurt was buried deep inside of Blaine, he paused to simply gaze at him again, and Blaine's eyes met his, and when Kurt began to thrust, they didn't break eye contact.

Their gaze deepened as Kurt began to increase the force and speed of his movements, sliding hard and fast in and out of Blaine's body. He was hitting Blaine's sensitive spot over and over again, and as much as Blaine writhed and screamed beneath him, as much as Kurt moaned and yelled with each thrust, their eyes remained locked.

It was as if they could see into one another's very souls. It was as if the true depth of their connection was finally presented to them, unmasked and delicate yet somehow strong as steel. It would be so easy to break them, what they had, but on some essential level it was completely and utterly untouchable. There was simply no destructive force in the universe that could find its way to the true heart of their love and their bond, and it was utterly terrifying and yet neither one of them looked away.

Their eyes were naked and open and they let each other all the way in.

Neither of them knew when they had started crying, they just knew that they were.

They clutched each other tight, and Kurt was absolutely  _slamming_  into Blaine, and Blaine was rocking his hips hard to meet every thrust, to try and pull Kurt as far inside him as physically possible, because the intensity was so overwhelming that all they could do was try and express it with their bodies while they sobbed and convulsed and held each other's gaze through a blur of tears.

Kurt felt himself getting close, and so he grasped Blaine's cock with an oiled hand and stroked him hard and fast and they both screamed as Kurt snapped his hips and flicked his wrist three final times before Kurt was coming deep inside of Blaine and Blaine was coming all over both of them, and they both came so hard that they found themselves regaining consciousness several seconds later, lying in a tangled heap.

Words were not allowed. They both simply knew this. Anything they said right now would come out bittersweet. So instead they slowly kissed, for a long, long time, before allowing themselves to fall into a messy sleep.


	24. Chapter 24

Kurt and Blaine's arrival at the actual border seemed almost anticlimactic after their time at the shrine.

Then again, twenty men running at them with swords would probably seem anticlimactic after their time at the shrine.

They had spent the night at the foot of the statue and had made love a total of five times – although to think of it that way would be to separate the experience out into pieces, compartmentalize it, and that wasn't strictly possible. They hadn't stopped touching each other, hadn't emerged from their pleasure-trance even through their bouts of sleep, the crackle of lust in the air rendering them downright insatiable.

When they finally summoned the strength to leave the shrine, they were incredibly sore and spent and ravenous and desperately thirsty.

Kurt thought it was entirely possible that they had just given The Mother of All the best offering she had ever received in all the thousands of years that such offerings had been made.

And Kurt clung to the memory of it; the depth of Blaine's eyes, the sounds that he made, the feel and scent of him as they fell over the edge together again and again, of the miniature universe that they had created consisting of only their bodies and their pleasure and their souls and their love. The time they had spent in that little universe carried the weight and meaning of years, even though it had only been hours.

Kurt clung to the memory because other memories were crowding in on it, vying for a position at the forefront of his mind. Memories that grew more vivid as the scenery around them grew more horrifically familiar.

They had left the dome early in the afternoon, after taking an altogether necessary nap inside the dome but as far from the shrine itself as possible. And now they were on the specific route that Kurt had taken many, many times in his life, most of them in a state of peace and reflection.

Kurt had chosen The Mother's shrine for his Nuptial Rite because she was so meaningful to him. Few others chose her because the shrine was technically on Villaluan soil. In fact, few made the trek at all anymore, not since humans had begun taking Sidhe slaves.

But Kurt hadn't been afraid. Kurt was too young and powerful to be afraid. And he couldn't imagine any other god guiding him on his Soul-Walk.

But all of that had changed.

His time at the shrine with Blaine was his last visit to The Mother. Kurt could not make this journey again. It was an incredibly painful realization to come to, but Kurt simply couldn't do it to himself. The shrine itself was unmarred – even more exalted, in fact, since making the offering with Blaine, but the path that led between his home and the shrine was forever poisoned.

Kurt felt himself grit his teeth as they emerged from the forest path to ride through a clearing. The very clearing that had lived a long and well-fed existence in his nightmares.

It was such a nondescript place; pleasant enough for a nap but nothing special. It was still rife with that sweet grass that Kurt had always liked so much, a variety that was rare in eastern Faerie country but abundant in Villalu.

Kurt couldn't imagine ever wanting to eat it again.

He gripped Blaine's hand tightly and felt his body tense up, and Blaine didn't need to ask what it was. He simply stroked gentle circles into Kurt's back while Kurt took them through the clearing at a brisk pace. By the time they were back on the wooded path, Kurt had both the reins and Blaine's hand in a white-knuckle grip.

"Kurt," Blaine said softly, flexing his fingers.

"Sorry," Kurt whispered, letting go of Blaine's hand.

"Kurt, we should stop for a bit. Give you a chance to-"

"I'm fine, Blaine."

"Kurt, you're not. Please at least let me drive."

Kurt sighed heavily, but thrust the reins into Blaine's hands. When Kurt finally allowed himself to start crying, Blaine eased them to a stop.

It reminded Blaine so much of that first time Kurt had opened up to him, except this time he didn't need to ask Kurt if he could hug him. This time Kurt simply slipped into Blaine's arms and nestled himself tightly into Blaine's embrace. It had become so natural, that trust and sense of safety that they felt with one another.

Blaine kissed Kurt's forehead lightly when Kurt finally pulled away.

Kurt smiled at him, and allowed Blaine to brush the tears from his cheeks.

"I'm never going back there, Blaine," he said, and the mere words, spoken aloud, seemed to melt something hard and cold and heavy inside of himself. Because it was true. He was  _never_  going back.

Kurt laughed and caught Blaine's hands as he lowered them from his face, raising them to his lips to kiss Blaine's knuckles. Their eyes lingered on one another in that new way that had unfolded between them since making love at the shrine, drenched in terrifying intimacy and the knowledge that neither of them would  _ever_  find someone else to connect to in this way.

Kurt leaned in to kiss Blaine deeply, and Blaine responded with enthusiasm, but there was no mistaking the fact that it was, oddly enough, a way to avoid the intensity. A way for Kurt to shift slightly away from Blaine, even as he physically leaned closer.

"We have to be careful," Kurt said as he pulled back. "Soon we'll be close enough to the border that there will be no danger from slave-traders; their minds become muddled, iron melts, verbena sours and wilts and loses its potency. But this stretch here-" Kurt swept his hand to indicate the area around them - "you should probably arm yourself, Blaine. There could be trouble."

* * *

Sure enough, soon after gathering his weapons, Blaine had to pull the carriage to an abrupt halt, barely missing a veritable wall of iron chains pulled taut between two trees across their path. Before they could so much as catch their breath, Blaine was lunging for Kurt and pulling him down, iron-tipped arrows narrowly avoiding them both.

Crouching on the foot rest in front of the perch, they both searched the area around them nervously.

"Blaine, I have to get down," Kurt whispered. "I need the ground for an anchor."

Blaine nodded. "I'll cover you," he whispered in reply. He grabbed the back of Kurt's head and gave him a quick, hard kiss before Kurt moved to slink to the ground.

The arrows had come from behind but at an angle, as the carriage shielded them from a direct assault to their backs. Kurt had been almost directly in the line of fire.

Out of the corner of his eye, far too close to Kurt for comfort, Blaine saw a quick flash of movement.

"Kurt! There!"

Kurt whipped around and a yelp came from the trees as a branch plunged to the ground and came up again clutching a writhing human man.

Kurt and Blaine both continued to survey the area nervously as Kurt melted the chains between the trees.

Kurt crept back toward the carriage until Blaine was close enough to hear him whisper.

"Blaine, I know there are more of them. There is something I can do without turning this into a bloodbath, but I'll need to close my eyes and gather the power for a moment. I'll be completely unguarded. Can you...?"

"I won't let anything happen to you, Kurt."

Kurt walked over to a large elder tree and placed his palms against the trunk.

Blaine nocked an arrow and moved his eyes around slowly, scanning the trees and path for any sign of movement.

A golden glow began to emanate from Kurt, softening the outlines of his body. Slowly, the tree began to shift in color, a golden shimmer lighting up the bark.

Blaine could almost  _feel_  the golden shimmer cascading down to the tree's roots, racing through the earth to alight the roots of all the other trees in this part of the forest.

Blaine forced himself to not simply gaze at Kurt spreading his magic through the trees, and to keep his eyes moving.

He almost missed the man, dressed entirely in green and brown so as to blend into the trees around him, as he crept onto the path and soundlessly advanced on Kurt, an iron throwing star in his hand.

Blaine released his arrow with a steady hand. His aim was true.

He struck the man in the heart.

Before he could even fully register the fact that the man was dead, the forest seemed to come alive with movement. Blaine whipped his head around frantically, anticipating the onslaught of the man's companions.

What he saw instead was utterly breathtaking.

Every tree within his range of vision was sparkling and glowing gold. The trees were moving as if they were flexible bodies, leaning and twisting and seeming to dance in place. bellowing began to emerge from the trees as several revealed men clutched in their branches, just like the first man they had seen.

Kurt walked back to the carriage, smiling but looking a bit shaky.

"We should probably hurry, Blaine. The woods are thick with them, and I need to be strong enough to get you through the border in one piece."

Blaine swallowed hard. He didn't like any part of that statement.

As they continued on their way, Blaine didn't ask what would happen to the men screaming from the branches around them. Would the trees let them go when Kurt was far enough away? Would they simply stay like that? Would anyone come to help the men?

Blaine found that he passionately did not care. These were men that lurked by the border, waiting for Sidhe to enslave. Men like those that had captured Kurt. Men that would no doubt hurt Kurt in the same way if they ever got the chance.

The more he thought about it, the more he found that he did care. And the more he found that he hoped they would all starve to death high among the branches.

"It wasn't like this before," Kurt said softly. "I took this trek many times. They...I think it's gotten worse, Blaine. I think it's  _getting_  worse."

Blaine didn't take Kurt's hand because they were riding hard and they had passed the range of golden trees and the danger hadn't subsided and Blaine needed all of his concentration on getting them to safety. On getting  _Kurt_  to safety. Instead, he leaned toward Kurt, brushing their shoulders together, and gave him a sympathetic look. Kurt slipped his arm around Blaine's waist.

"Blaine, I should probably take over the reins soon. This is going to be like getting to the shrine, but...it's probably going to be worse for you. But you really can't fall asleep and you can't let go of my hand."

"Why can't I fall asleep?" Blaine was already starting to find the idea of doing so appealing. Kurt eased the reins from his hands. "Why can't you just hold onto me and let me sleep?"

"Because the border guards against human entrance in two ways. You need to be physically connected to me, physically protected, and you need to be mentally present and conscious. The border is...well, it's a gateway between worlds. It is almost a living thing, and it wants to pull you in. You'll  _want_  to go where it beckons you, and the closer you are to sleep the harder it will be to resist the pull. And if you don't resist it you could end up...anywhere."

"What do you mean by  _anywhere?"_  Blaine asked, forcing his eyes to remain open.

"There are innumerable worlds, Blaine. Some much better than this one and some much, much worse. But if I lost you in the void, I'd..." Kurt inhaled sharply. "I would never find you. And the chances that you would end up somewhere safe are very, very small. So  _please_ stay with me through this."

Blaine sighed dreamily, his head dropping against Kurt's chest.

"I'll stay with you forever, Kurt," he murmured.

Kurt fought back the prickle behind his eyes and the jolt of pain in his chest at the sweet, simple and half-wakeful statement. The statement that he knew Blaine meant with purity and intensity. The one beautiful thing that Kurt could not say back.

Kurt shook Blaine awake.

"Blaine. Listen to me. I am going to keep talking to you and you are going to answer me, all right?"

"Mmmm."

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand until he yelped.

"God, Kurt, that still kind of hurts from  _yesterday!"_

"Well, good. That means I won't have to exert as much pressure to keep you awake."

"That's horrible. Why are you being so mean?"

"Because I'd rather hurt your hand then send you into a world of seven-foot-tall carnivorous insects and noxious gasses instead of air!"

Blaine sat bolt upright at that.

"That...that isn't real, is it?"

Kurt shrugged. "I've only heard rumors. Very few Sidhe have successfully traversed worlds and returned to tell the tale."

"But...it can be done?"

"It  _can._  It rarely is. It takes powerful magics and years of study."

Blaine looked at Kurt thoughtfully.

"I'll bet you could do it, though."

Kurt flushed slightly and shrugged again. "I could, if I were so inclined. I'm not, though. There are problems enough in this world without having to go out looking for a whole other world's worth."

"Mmmm," Blaine said, his eyelids growing heavier.

"Blaine, have I told you about Faerie country?" Kurt asked, desperate for a conversation topic to keep Blaine awake.

"Um...what? No, not really. I mean you said your fer...uh..."

"Feririar."

"Yeah. You said some people live in plant houses there. Like the ones in S'aufa."

"Yes. And in tree-houses too, like that inn we stayed at in L'auhe. Do you remember that?"

"Mmmm."

"Blaine!" Kurt squeezed his hand hard.

"What! I am! I mean, yes. I remember."

"There are flowers as big as trees, like at the shrine, but there are actual trees there, too. Trees like none you've ever seen before, Blaine."

"Mmmm."

"Blaine, ask me a question."

"Ummm, like what?"

"Like anything. You have to stay awake, remember?"

They were getting close. Very, very close. Kurt tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice. He slowly spread a pulse of binding energy around himself, Blaine, the carriage and the horses. He wasn't terribly worried about the horses; they were never drawn to the wormholes the way that humans were, but it was an extra measure of security to keep them all together, and it certainly couldn't hurt.

"Blaine!  _Ask me a question!"_

"OW! Okay! Ummm...where did you live in your feririar?"

"I lived in a great hall of flowers."

"A... _where_  did you live?"

"The home-growers that made it wove it together from (the name was Elfin) flowers. They are some of the biggest flowers you will ever see. I lived in a great hall. It was magnificent. I lived there with Firae."

Blaine failed to disguise the gasp that escaped him at that. Kurt winced.

He hated to do it. He hadn't wanted to do it. But they were nearly there and he needed Blaine awake. And he knew that mentioning the name of his former betrothed, and of the fact that they had shared a home, would jar Blaine back to wakefulness.

Blaine didn't even seem to notice how close they had become. He didn't even seem to notice the blue-gray glittering wall that rose up before them, the border that had seemed so far away until they were this close, and suddenly it was enormous. Suddenly it was oppressive. It loomed like a frozen tidal wave, as tall as the heavens.

Blaine didn't seem to notice it because he really didn't. Because every bit of him that wasn't actively fighting sleep was focused on Kurt. On what he had said. On the name Firae.

What the hell kind of name was Firae? Blaine was pretty sure it was the most idiotic name he had ever heard in his entire life.

"I'm going to tell you, you know. I'm going to tell you everything, just as soon as we cross. But you need to stay awake, Blaine."

"I'm awake," Blaine said steadily. He was now grasping Kurt's hand just as hard as Kurt was clutching his.

"Who are you, Kurt?" Blaine asked.

"You know who I am, Blaine."

"No, I mean...at home. In your feririar. Who are you there?"

"I told you, I will tell you as soon-"

"Tell me now."

Kurt looked straight ahead.

"If I tell you now you might let go."

Blaine opened his mouth to protest, but his words were lost in the sudden impact, the vacuum suction, the writhing tunnels that screamed at them, that sang to him, that seemed so terrifying and yet so intriguing.

He couldn't see Kurt. But he could  _feel_ Kurt. He could feel Kurt's hand, and he always wanted Kurt's hand in his, but he also wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep so, so badly, and if he simply gave in he would be able to sleep through this, this confusing, blinding,  _far too fast and far too colorful place_  that made him want to just crawl into one of those tunnels and close his eyes and never wake up.

But Kurt's hand was squeezing his. And Kurt had told him not to fall asleep.

Kurt had said  _if I lost you in the void I would never find you._

And he needed Kurt to always be able to find him.

Blaine squeezed back.

And then he was hit with a wall of sunlight.

Blaine was slammed back into his body and time and space so forcefully that it made him dizzy and made his body spasm unpleasantly, and he ripped his hand from Kurt's and hurled himself off the perch and fell onto his hands and knees and vomited onto the ground.

Blaine emptied his stomach and then dry-heaved for quite some time, taking noisy, shuddering breaths, and his skin felt damp and cold. When his breathing began to even out again, he felt a warm hand on his back.

He let Kurt help him to his feet, and wipe him off with a cool, wet cloth. Then Kurt led him to the shade of an enormous tree (or perhaps flower?) and brought him water from a flask and some blossoms to eat. Blaine was suspicious of the blossoms at first, but he relented and found that they filled his mouth with a pleasant taste and settled his stomach considerably.

Blaine sighed deeply.

"That was  _awful."_

Kurt brushed a lock of hair out of Blaine's eyes and sighed, sitting down beside him. "Yes. I'm sorry. I knew it would be bad, but I've never brought a human through before. I didn't realize it would be  _that_ bad."

Blaine dropped his head onto Kurt's shoulder.

"Well." he said softly, "we did it. We're here."

"We are," Kurt agreed.

"Kurt," Blaine looked up at him with a broad smile. "You're  _safe."_

Kurt couldn't help but smile back.

"Let's find a place to set up camp," Blaine said. "And then we can make some tea, and we can talk."

Kurt's smile faded, but he nodded resolutely. "Yes," he agreed. "That sounds like a good plan."

Faerie country was beautiful.

Blaine was reminded strongly of the shrine, but everything was... _more_  so. There were also some things that he recognized from Villalu. There were elder trees and willow trees, and Blaine saw some very normal-looking toads and rabbits.

He also saw some creatures he had never even dreamt of.

He saw a small, fluffy creature that looked a bit like a cross between a cat and a hedgehog. Its coat shimmered and shifted in color, matching that of the plant life around it. It flushed green as it ran through green grasses, then shifted to pink when it wandered into a patch of pink flowers.

He saw something that looked almost exactly like a large, silver fish swimming through the air. It moved by them at an incredible speed.

And he saw a lizard with wings like a bird. Its skin was vivid green and its wings were brilliant orange and gold and it seemed to be pursuing a pixie. Blaine gasped and clutched Kurt's arm.

"Kurt, that lizard is going to eat that pixie!"

Kurt looked. "Yes, it very well may," he agreed.

Blaine looked aghast.

"Blaine, they keep the pixie population under control. Trust me, you do  _not_  want to see the results when they overbreed."

Blaine averted his eyes from the chase.

"They just...they look so  _human._ "

"I know," Kurt said gently. "But...well,  _all_  animals have that spark and individuality, Blaine. You just saw it more clearly in the pixies because they are shaped something like you and I."

Blaine swallowed. It was going to take some time to get used to life in Faerie country.

Many of the flower-trees were even larger here than in the dome; without a roof to contain them, some seemed as tall as mountains. The landscape spread before them in a patchwork of color that was so vivid and beautiful it made Blaine's eyes water. The world was full of grass and flowers, and everything smelled sweet and pure.

Kurt was mostly quiet as he drove, though he did gaze over at Blaine from time to time, smiling at the excitement, confusion, awe and reverence that played across his face.

They finally found a spot that Kurt deemed suitable to make camp, and Kurt made a fire and set the kettle on to boil.

Kurt sighed nervously. It was still quite light out and they were far too close to his feririar for his comfort. All he wanted was to get Blaine to Khryslee without any trouble.

"All right, Kurt," Blaine said when he had a cup of tea between his hands. "I believe it's time for you to tell me some things."

Kurt sipped his own tea delicately, and then sighed. "Yes. Thank you for giving me this long. So. I suppose...do you have any specific questions to start out with, or shall I just-"

"Are you royalty, Kurt?" Blaine blurted out. "Is that it?"

Kurt smiled slightly and looked down at his cup. "No. Well, not exactly."

Blaine looked at him with confusion.

"Blaine, Sidhe society is a caste system. The castes are not determined by bloodlines, though there can be a genetic component to the powers that manifest. The royal family, however, that  _is_  determined by bloodline. Or marriage line. In order to add some diversity to the ruling class, they are allowed to marry others of certain castes."

"Like...yours?" Blaine asked, his throat going dry.

Kurt nodded. "Like mine. My caste is-" he spoke the word. "I suppose the best translation into Villaluan might be...Spiral caste."

"Spiral?"

"Yes, well, the name in Elfin essentially means spiral. The spiral is a sacred shape. It contains all, expands and contracts, grows and shrinks, but it is fluid and fixed and unbroken at the same time. Spiral caste Sidhe are...well, we're extremely rare. Very extremely rare."

"And...what does it mean?"

"It means I have a full range of power."

"Full?" Blaine raised an eyebrow in question.

"Full. It means...well, it means that any power that it is possible for a Sidhe to have, I have it. Every manifestation of it. And the strongest possible manifestation, too. The strength of one just feeds the others, moving like a spiral, so that I can focus my energy on the most minute, precise task or the most large-scale and complex maneuver. And sometimes...sometimes it can be so much that it's hard to control."

"Okay," Blaine said steadily. "Well, that isn't really a surprise. I kind of figured your power was on a different scale from most other Sidhe. But I don't understand why that means you can't stay with me."

"Well," Kurt said nervously, "there is this law called the non-interference doctrine."

"Yeah, I know about it. Tash told me."

"Oh. Well. That law is the reason the Sidhe haven't done anything about the slavery in Villalu. It's the only reason we aren't trying to work  _with_ the Villaluan government instead of just ignoring human society and putting up walls and casting our criminals amongst them and treating it like some sort of great kindness on our part. And, at present, there is really only one person with the power to-"

Kurt stopped in mid-sentence, looking up in alarm.

"Kurt, what is it?"

Kurt was going pale, paler than Blaine had ever thought possible.

"Blaine, we have to-"

Kurt looked around wildly, and then grabbed Blaine's hand, both their cups of tea falling to the ground as he ran toward a grove of trees, pulling Blaine behind him.

"Blaine, we have to hide. We can't let them-"

But it was too late.

Seemingly out of nowhere, they were absolutely swarmed.

* * *

Enormous dragonfly-like creatures like the one Blaine had seen in S'aufa were flying at them from every direction.

Grimchins. That was what Kurt had said their Villaluan name was. They were grimchins.

But why did that matter? Why was he focusing on something as inane as what to call them?

Perhaps it was because astride each grimchin was a Sidhe.

Some had swords at their hips and others carried bows and quivers full of arrows. They were dressed in glossy green skirtlike garments, their feet and chests bare.

They were clearly warriors. And yet there were women amongst them. In fact, there seemed to be more women than men. They were bare-breasted and bright-eyed, looking every bit as fierce as their male counterparts.

Blaine stared at them in open amazement. Kurt had stopped trying to run. Instead he simply stood in front of Blaine protectively, reaching behind him to grasp Blaine's hands in his.

"Don't move a single step away from me," Kurt whispered urgently. "I'm going to keep you safe."

Blaine squeezed Kurt's hands, pressing himself tightly against Kurt's back.

As the first of the Sidhe began to land and dismount, Blaine heard Kurt call something out to them in Elfin. A woman responded and walked toward Kurt, her gaze shifting between Kurt and Blaine suspiciously.

She struck Blaine as being someone in a leadership position amongst the warrior Sidhe. While all the Sidhe wore simple flowered headdresses, hers was more ornate and impressive. She also wore a sash across her torso with something indecipherable written in rich gold lettering. And her sword was clearly superior to that of her companions.

She was asking Kurt questions, and even though he couldn't understand a word, Blaine could tell Kurt was being evasive. And then, at one point, he gripped Blaine's hands more fiercely and began to sound angry.

And then he heard it. Kurt's full name. He would never forget what it sounded like. This woman used it, and the  _way_  that she used it...

She knew Kurt. She  _knew_  him. So why this odd formality? Why no hugging and tears of joy to see that he was safe and alive and home?

Suddenly there was a shift in the atmosphere. Blaine heard Kurt audibly gasp. He followed the line of Kurt's sight to see another group of figures approaching on grimchins.

As they got closer, the central figure began to take up more space, both literally and as a matter of pure presence. His grimchin was noticeably larger than any of the others, and he wore a look of lazy superiority. He wore a garment similar to what the others were wearing, but his was a deep shade of blue, and he wore boots to match.

He was beautiful. His skin was golden and his hair was long, silken and nearly coal-black. His eyes were the color of autumn leaves. Across his shoulders was a magnificent cape, woven through with flowers that still seemed to be alive, and not losing a single petal as it whipped in the wind behind him. His headdress was incredibly intricate and simply gorgeous. It was a crown of vines and flowers and leaves and berries, and looked like it had been crafted by an artist of inhuman capabilities which, Blaine supposed, it had.

The six others that he flew in with surrounded him and landed with a crisp, synchronized precision. One of the guards (and they were clearly his guards) reached out a hand to help him down from his grimchin though clearly he could have managed quite well on his own. As he strode across the grass, the other Sidhe (with the exception of Kurt) knelt to the ground in reverence.

Blaine had spent enough time in a royal court to know a king when he saw one.

The king advanced on them, wearing a look of pure disbelief.

He stood before them and simply stared. Tears began to gather in his eyes.

"Kurt," he whispered.

"Firae," Kurt said, his voice shaking with emotion, before pulling his hands free from Blaine's and throwing them around Firae's neck.


	25. Chapter 25

Kurt stopped in mid-sentence, looking up in alarm.

No. It couldn't be. It  _couldn't_ be. How could he possibly have missed one of Firae's sentries? He had thought they were safe. He had thought _Blaine_ was safe.

But the sound was unmistakable. It was the royal guard, and they would be upon them in minutes.

Unless...perhaps they hadn't been spotted? Perhaps the guard were headed somehwere else, and it was just a coincidence that Kurt and Blaine happened to be on their path. Perhaps it wasn't too late after all.

"Kurt, what is it?" Blaine asked nervously.

Kurt tried not to panic. If they had any kind of a chance, they were going to have to  _move._

"Blaine, we have to-"

The buzz of the grimchins was growing louder. Much too loud and much too fast. Kurt looked around desperately to see which direction they were coming from.

He grabbed Blaine's hand, both their cups of tea falling to the ground as he ran toward the closest grove of trees, pulling Blaine behind him.

"Blaine, we have to hide. We can't let them-"

But it was too late.

The sound was coming from all around them.

Which could only mean one thing.

It wasn't a coincidence. They were coming for Kurt and Blaine.

It felt like no time at all before the grimchins were upon them.

Once it became clear that they were completely surrounded, Kurt stopped trying to run. There was simply no point. He would have to face them with Blaine at his side.

_Blaine._

Blaine was staring at the royal guard in open amazement. He had that same look of wonder on his face that he'd worn when he had first seen pixies and flower-trees. It was tinged with a bit of fear, but not nearly enough. Not for this situation. Kurt felt a hot flare of protectiveness surge through him, and moved to stand in front of Blaine. He reached behind him and grabbed Blaine's hands, holding them firmly in his own.

"Don't move a single step away from me," Kurt whispered. "I'm going to keep you safe."

Blaine squeezed Kurt's hands, and pressed himself tightly against Kurt's back. Kurt could feel Blaine's heart pounding against him, and all he could think about was how fragile Blaine was. How much Blaine was going to need him. And how far he really was willing to go to keep him safe.

The first members of the guard began to land and dismount.

"We are unarmed and seek passage through this land. I am escorting this human to Khryslee and wish your king only pleasant tidings," Kurt called out to them.

The Marshal dismounted and began walking toward them, and Kurt's heart sank when he saw who it was. Her pet name was Sree, and she had always been one of Firae's most trusted advisors. She hadn't yet achieved the rank of Marshal when Kurt had left.

Sree had never particularly cared for Kurt. She had once been suspended from service for telling Firae that Kurt was frivilous and not worthy to become his lifemate.

"You have returned," she said simply, her eyes shifting suspiciously between Kurt and Blaine. "And you brought...a pet."

"He isn't a pet," Kurt answered, trying to keep his voice even.

"So you are escorting humans to Khryslee now? In direct violation of the non-interference doctrine?"

"The doctrine says nothing about escorting humans to Khryslee."

"It does say something about bringing humans across the border, though, doesn't it?"

"I had to bring him across," Kurt said defensively. "He risked his own life to save mine, and the King of Villalu is out for his blood because of it."

"And why would the King of Villalu care about  _you?"_

"Because I was his son's slave, that's why," Kurt spat. "Where did you think I was for the past five years? Drinking nectar in the border towns?"

Sree shrugged. "I always figured you just decided not to marry Firae and couldn't face him. But if you were actually enslaved as you claim..."

"As I  _claim?_  Do you even have any idea what goes on across the border?"

"Not my concern," Sree said flatly. "But your human will have to go back."

Kurt glared at her. "No."

"Then we'll have to kill him. He can't stay here, and the Khrysleans can't keep using our lands to transport fugitives."

" _Fugitives?"_

"You said he was wanted by the Villaluan King. That makes him a fugitive, wouldn't you say?"

Kurt gripped Blaine's hands even harder. "Sree, he is  _not_  going back to Villalu. I am bringing him to Khryslee and I am going to personally see to his safe arrival there, and then I will come back and explain everything to Firae. But if you so much as try to touch a single hair on his head, if you so much as  _think_  too hard about hurting him, I swear I will-"

" _What,_  Kurt?" She taunted. "What exactly will you do to me in front of an entire guard of armed soldiers? Even if you managed to survive, your human certainly wouldn't."

She didn't actually call him Kurt, of course. Calling him by his pet name would be a sign of affection, and she seemed to have even less for him now than she did before.

Kurt's eyes narrowed. So this was her game. If she attacked Kurt, Firae would never forgive her. He would probably kill her. That is, of course, assuming that Firae wouldn't prefer to kill Kurt. She was daring him to call her bluff.

If it was a bluff.

Did Firae think the same thing that Sree did? Had he spent the past five years thinking that Kurt had abandoned him? Had he foregone the customary grieving period and already taken another lifemate?

Kurt felt his insides twisting with an intense barrage of confusing emotions. He had assumed Firae would still want him, that he had been grieving him. But the fact that perhaps Firae  _wouldn't_  want him anymore meant that he could stay with Blaine.

But then nothing would change in Villalu.

But then he could stay with  _Blaine._

Before Kurt could figure out how to respond to Sree, he caught sight of a familiar-looking group of grimchin-mounted Sidhe.

In the middle of the group was one of the largest and finest grimchins Kurt had ever seen. She was just as Kurt remembered her.

And then he saw the man that rode her. He gasped at the sight of him.

Because it had been five years. Five years since he had seen anyone from his childhood. Five years since he had seen his family.

And this far east, Firae was the closest thing to family that Kurt had. After being sent to the Eastern Border Lands following his mother's death, Firae had been Kurt's rock. He understood what it was like to be different, to have everyone keep him at a distance but treat it like a privilege. He knew what it was like to see the fear and awe in people's eyes when they looked at him, and he knew what it felt like to hate himself when he sometimes secretly enjoyed it.

But most of all, he knew what it felt like to lose his mother. And when they talked about it together they would look each other in the eye, and they never had to pretend to be okay.

Firae couldn't hate him. He  _couldn't._  Firae had been his best friend. Firae had been his first love. At one time, Firae had been his everything.

But that had been a different time and Kurt had been a different man.

That was before he really understood himself. That was before he saw what true strength looked like. That was before he knew that it was possible to love someone as much as he loved Blaine.

Firae was still beautiful. He had barely changed in the last five years. He dismounted and walked toward Kurt, a look of pure disbelief on his face.

And warmth. And tears.

Firae stood before him and simply stared.

"Kurt," he whispered.

And suddenly it hit him. He was safe. He was  _home._  And his best friend, his childhood confidante, his source of comfort when he was small and frightened and alone was standing before him.

Kurt had never truly believed that he would see him again. That he would see  _any_  of them again.

"Firae," Kurt said, his voice shaking with emotion. He launched himself at Firae, throwing his arms around the King's neck.

"You're alive," Firae sobbed. "You're  _alive!"_

"I never thought I'd see you again," Kurt whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I missed you so much."

"Kurt...where...what...when the sentry reported that she'd seen you I thought she had to be mistaken. I had to come see for myself, because I never would have believed...what happened? What  _happened?_ "

"I was captured by slave-traders," Kurt answered softly. Firae tensed and let out a wail of despair.

"I never would have gotten out alive if it hadn't been for Blaine," he added.

"Who is-" Firae froze, and seemed to suddenly notice that Kurt wasn't alone. He broke the hug, and Kurt instinctively turned back to Blaine.

And when he did, his heart nearly shattered.

Kurt had never seen Blaine look like this before. Not when he had realized how different their lifespans were, not when he left Kurt in the cafe in S'aufa, not when he was at Brec's mercy, refusing to fight the compulsion.

Blaine looked utterly broken. His face was awash with pure, unmasked anguish.

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt murmured, reaching for his hand. Blaine gripped it so hard Kurt thought he was going to break his fingers.

Kurt wanted nothing more than to take Blaine into his arms, to hug him and kiss him and tell him how much he loved him. But he was fairly sure that the rest of Blaine's life would take place in the next five minutes if he attempted any such thing.

Firae's Villaluan wasn't excellent, but it was too good for Kurt to try and communicate anything reassuring to Blaine. So he tried desperately to do it with his eyes.

"I thought you had your compulsion bound," Firae said. Kurt could hear the frown in his voice.

"I did," Kurt replied, turning back to face him without letting go of Blaine's hand.

"Then why is he looking at you like that?"

"He...I..."

Why hadn't he prepared himself for this? Even knowing that he might not get Blaine to Khryslee without running into the royal guard, he really hadn't expected to run into Firae himself.

His frown deepening, Firae strode forward and grabbed Blaine by the collar. Blaine's eyes widened in terror.

" _Firae!"_ Kurt shrieked in alarm.

Firae pulled Blaine close and pressed his neck to the base of his throat, inhaling deeply. When lifted his face, his eyes were blazing with burgundy-gold fire.

"He defiled you," Firae growled, the earth beginning to shake around them. Blaine yelped as if in pain, a hand flying to his chest.

"No," Kurt insisted, his voice hard. His eyes met Firae's, blue fire lashing against burgundy, and the earth stilled. Blaine let out a breath and lowered his hand slowly.

"You  _stink_  of him, Kurt."

"We've been traveling together for months!"

Firae gave a harsh, mirthless laugh.

"Kurt. Have you forgotten who I am? You stink of  _him._  It's in your pores, your musk, it's all through you. There is only one way for that to happen, and you know it."

"He didn't defile me," Kurt repeated firmly, his voice soft.

"Kurt-" Firae began impatiently.

"Would you like to know how many men  _did_  defile me?" Kurt shouted. "It might take some time, you know, because I lost count within the first year. I'm sure you'd  _all_  be interested to know," he added, directing his wrath at the attendant guards around them. "It will just confirm what some of you have thought all along, that I'm not good enough to be your other King. Because now I've been  _defiled._  Used. Wasted.  _Ruined!"_

Kurt shot his flashing eyes back to Firae, who was staring at him in shock.

"Kurt, no..." he began weakly, "I didn't mean..."

"You know what, Firae? Blaine is the one person, the  _one person_  who never made me feel like I'd been defiled. He never made me feel like there was something wrong with me because of what other men did to my body. And yes. Yes, I have been with him. Many times. But it was entirely mutual, and I was the one who initiated it."

Firae's emotional reaction seemed to be struggling to resolve itself between rage and guilt and overwhelming sadness.

"I...Kurt...I didn't...I'm sorry. Of course there isn't something wrong with you. I just...it shouldn't have been  _him._ " He looked at Blaine, a look of near-hatred in his eyes. "It should have been me."

"Yes, well," Kurt replied, his voice soft again. "It has been five years, Firae. Have you remained chaste all that time?"

Firae flushed slightly and looked at the ground.

"Kurt..." the voice was so small, so pained that Kurt acted on pure instinct. He pulled Blaine into his arms, hugging him tightly.

"It's going to be all right," he whispered.

"It shouldn't have been him," Firae repeated, the rage seeming to win out in his voice.

"Well it was," Kurt said defiantly, moving out of the embrace but keeping a hold on Blaine's hand. "And he did save my life, Firae, and I owe it to him to see him to safety. I promised him that I would bring him to Khryslee, and that is what I am going to do."

"It most certainly is not. That thing is going back to Villalu or into the void or he is dying by my hand this very day. But you are  _not_ bringing him to Khryslee."

Kurt clenched his jaw and looked into Firae's eyes, his gaze ice-cold. Firae was unable to suppress an acutal, physical shiver.

"And how exactly do you propose to stop me?" Kurt hissed.

Firae looked dumbfounded.

"Kurt, you wouldn't-"

"Firae, try me. I'm not the same boy you knew five years ago. I have spent those years living in hell, fighting to keep hold of a trace of sanity and a will to live. Blaine saved me from that, and he almost got killed in the process. If you harm a single hair on his head-" Kurt advanced on Firae, pulling Blaine behind him, and grasped a strand of Firae's hair for emphasis - "a  _single hair,_  Firae, I will never speak to you again. I will never so much look at you. If you hurt Blaine, Firae, it will make me  _hate_  you."

Firae swallowed, struggling to keep a look of superiority on his face.

"Fine, then. We'll send him back to-"

"No. Sending him back to Villalu is hurting him. He will be killed if he is returned. Just...just let me bring him to Khryslee, Firae. Please."

Firae sighed. "You really expect me to let you bring him to Khryslee."

"Yes."

"In direct violation of the non-interference doctrine."

"Yes."

"In direct opposition to the choices I just presented about what is to be done with him."

"Yes."

They stared at each other hard, their eyes burning into one another.

For that moment, it seemed that no one besides the two of them so much as took a breath.

Finally, the corners of Firae's mouth began to twitch. He fought for a moment before allowing himself to surrender to laughter.

"Kurt. Oh, Kurt, you  _are_  the same boy I knew five years ago! I don't care how else you may have changed, no one else would ever dare to speak to me that way."

Kurt smiled a little too, in spite of himself.

Firae sighed deeply. "All right. I don't want our reunion to continue like this, Kurt. You're finally back, and I...all I want is to be alone with you. But I can't let you take him to Khryslee."

Kurt opened his mouth to argue, but Firae held up a hand.

"I can't, Kurt. I can't have him free to roam the Eastern Border Lands when...when it's clear to me that he holds a piece of your heart. I just can't. But...I will allow him to be kept in a holding cell for now. And then we can calm down and discuss this further."

Kurt studied him for a moment.

"It has to be a  _nice_  cell. In the Northern tower."

"Fine."

"And I need your oath that he will be treated well and afforded all the reasonable comforts."

"You have it."

"And you have to assign him guards that speak fluent Villaluan. And I have to approve them."

"Kurt..."

"These are my conditions, Firae."

"I am still your King, you know."

Kurt simply looked at him, unblinking. Firae sighed.

"You're lucky I love you," he muttered.

"I'll take that as a yes," Kurt said with a smile. "And I have to be the one to escort him to Cloudlen."

Firae crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, now you're just making a mockery of me altogether."

"You have to let me  _talk_  to him! Explain what's going on."

"All right, Kurt, but under no circumstances are the two of you to be alone together. And tonight..." Firae lifted Kurt's free hand to his lips and kissed it. "Tonight, I want you all to myself."

"Agreed," Kurt answered softly.

* * *

Blaine wanted to die.

The moment when Kurt had pulled his hands away from Blaine and thrown them around Firae had felt, unequivocally, like the end of the world. The end of all hope. The end of color and vitality. The very end of Blaine's heart.

It all made sense, and it emptied him of hope.

Kurt wanted to end the slave trade. If Kurt married Firae, he would be in a position to do exactly that. And no matter how much Kurt may love Blaine, Kurt was not selfish enough to walk away from something like that.

But when Kurt reached for him, his heart surged with mindless hope.

Could there be a way? Even now? Perhaps Kurt could convince Firae. Perhaps he wouldn't have to marry him. Perhaps...

No. It was clear that Firae wanted Kurt, and it was also clear that he wanted to rub Blaine out of existence. And the more heated it became between them, the more Blaine's heart surged with fear.

Because even though he couldn't understand the words, Blaine could see that underneath Kurt's anger there was affection. And he and Firae seemed to have something akin to  _passion_  dancing between them.

The fire in Firae's eyes didn't scare him nearly as much as the fire in Kurt's.

But then, when he whimpered Kurt's name without even really meaning too, Kurt had hugged him and told him that everything was going to be all right.

And now, as they sat in the carriage together, a tiny seed of hope tentatively planted itself in a hidden corner of Blaine's heart.

Maybe it really  _was_  going to be all right. Maybe, somehow, it still could be.

They were going to Kurt's feririar. Or rather, to Cloudlen. Kurt told him that the community of Sidhe who lived there made up the feririar, but that the name of the place itself was Cloudlen. Blaine didn't entirely understand the distinction, but he didn't really care.

Blaine was going to be a prisoner. Technically, he already was.

The King had promised that he would come to no harm, that he would be well cared for. Kurt promised to visit him as often as he could until he and Firae had "figured things out."

Kurt didn't say much else. They were not alone in the carriage; two members of the royal guard accompanied them, one beside each of them, as they sat facing each other.

The royal guard that served the King. Firae. Kurt's first love, and perhaps his future husband.

Firae was a beautiful Elfin King with burgundy eyes who lived in a great hall of flowers. And Blaine was a simple peasant from a tiny fishing village who badly needed a bath and a shave.

Between the two of them, the choice was obvious.

When the carriage pulled to a stop, Kurt managed to get close enough to Blaine to whisper "I love you" into his ear.

And then Blaine watched him walk away, toward Firae, who had already dismounted from his grimchin. They strolled off into the night, hand in hand, looking completely at ease with one another.

They looked beautiful together.

Blaine didn't even take in the village, though it was surely full of the wonders of Faerie country. He didn't even watch where they were going. His heart was smashed and his life was broken.

Because even if there  _could_  be a way, Blaine realized, he had been counting on Kurt loving him and wanting him as much as he loved and wanted Kurt. But Kurt obviously cared for Firae. Maybe he even loved him. Maybe, even if he loved Blaine more, he loved Firae enough.

The guards led him up a long set of steps spiraling around a mighty tree. It was much like the inn he and Kurt had stayed at in L'auhe. Blaine didn't care.

He didn't even know how long he had been there, curled into a ball and crying, when he suddenly realized that he was alone.

There were bars on the windows and the door.

* * *

Firae led Kurt toward his bedchamber, babbling excitedly about all of the people that were going to be so excited to see Kurt the following day.

Kurt paused in the doorway.

Firae looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. "Problem?"

"No. No, of course not. I was just wondering...is my old room occupied, or should I use one of the guest chambers?"

Firae frowned. "Kurt, I was hoping...that you might consider staying with me tonight."

Kurt inhaled sharply. "I...Firae, it's just...it's too soon."

Firae walked back toward the door, taking both of Kurt's hands in his.

"Kurt, I would argue that it's been too  _long._  Look, I'm not saying that we have to...do anything. Just stay with me? Hold me?"

Kurt pulled Firae into a tight hug.

"Firae," he whispered. "Please, just don't push. It's me. I'm here. But...I need my own sleeping chamber right now. I just need some time to myself. Please understand that."

Firae sighed, but gave Kurt a gentle squeeze before pulling back. "I understand. I'm just so happy to see you again. I suppose I'm afraid that if I let you sleep somewhere else you'll be gone in the morning."

Kurt gave him a light kiss on the cheek. "I'm not going anywhere. Now, can we please get some tea and honeysuckle? I want to hear about _everything_  that's been happening."

Firae laughed. "That may take all night."

Kurt smiled. "We have time."

Firae went to find a handservant to fetch their tea and flowers. Kurt walked to the window. He looked over to where he knew the Northern tower stood, shrouded in darkness.

"Blaine," he whispered. "I just...I..."

He couldn't find the words.

Kurt wiped the tears from his eyes and plastered a smile on his face, turning to face Firae as he strode back into the room.

* * *

Blaine moaned as the morning sun invaded his eyes. Despite the luxurious-looking bed in the room, he had slept curled up on the floor.

He rolled onto his back and threw an arm across his eyes to blot out the light.

He didn't want to be awake. Being awake meant facing reality. And facing reality meant facing the fact that he had lost Kurt.

Kurt was probably still sleeping right now, exhausted from a night of passionate lovemaking with Firae. They were probably tangled up in the sheets of Firae's obnoxiously large bed with obnoxiously soft sheets and Firae was probably an obnoxiously perfect lover, and Kurt was probably thanking the gods that he finally knew what making love with a real man was like and Blaine simply wanted to die.

He decided that he wasn't going to move all day. He ignored the sound of the door unlocking and creaking open. Let them kick him or kill him or leave food for him that he probably couldn't even eat because it was probably just flowers anyway. Blaine didn't care about anything anymore.

"Wow. Uh, were you wasted when they brought you in last night? Because Kurt didn't say anything about that."

At the sound of Kurt's name, Blaine contemplated moving his arm away from his eyes.

"Or...are you sick? Do I need to get a healer? Or...gods, did Firae do that thing where he burns you on the inside without it showing on your skin? I  _hate_ it when he does that."

Blaine was pretty sure Firae  _had_  started to do that before Kurt stopped him. He hadn't known what was happening at the time, but now he did and it was just another obnoxiously impressive thing about the smug, arrogant prettyboy King. Somehow Blaine didn't think that his skill with a bow and arrow would quite measure up to burning someone from the inside out with just a look.

"Hey, friend." The voice was closer, as if the person were kneeling beside him. Blaine really wished that they would just go away.

It sounded like a man's voice, and quite a bit less musical than the other Sidhe voices he had heard.

The man clearly wasn't going anywhere. Blaine sighed and shifted his arm to his forehead, peering at the figure above him from underneath.

The Sidhe fixed him with a cocky grin. "Man, you  _are_  pretty. No wonder Kurt boned you all across Villalu."

Blaine felt his eyes widen in shock. Who  _was_  this man? What was wrong with him?

"What do you want?" Blaine asked, surprised by the gruffness in his own voice.

"Hey. No need to snap at me, my friend. You are my new  _idol._ You fucked Kurt raw and then walked right up to Firae holding his hand, and Firae not only  _didn't_  kill you, he put you in the nicest cell in the Northern tower, and he let Kurt send  _me_  to stand guard. The gods will be singing your tale across generations!"

So this man knew Kurt. In fact, it sounded like Kurt had specifically asked for this man to look after Blaine.

He tried to imagine Kurt having any sort of amicable relationship with this man and he simply couldn't. He seemed far too lewd, for one thing.

Blaine studied him. His skin had a healthy Sidhe glow, with a soft brown tint. His eyes were dark amber, and seemed to actively sparkle with mischief. He wore an odd hairstyle; his head appeared to be shaven except for a single stripe of hair from above his forehead to the nape of his neck, the stripe ending in a glossy braid that reached his shoulder blades.

He reached a hand out to Blaine. Blaine stared at it.

"Am I not doing it right?" he asked, his brow furrowed. "Don't Villaluans clasp their hands together and shake them when they meet each other?"

"Oh," Blaine muttered. "Yeah. Sorry." He sat up. This may be the worst day of his life, but the man was trying to be friendly and personal misery was no excuse for poor manners.

He took the man's hand. "I'm Blaine," he said, shaking it.

"No shit," the Sidhe said, shaking so hard he almost wrenched Blaine's arm out of the socket. "You can call me Puck."


	26. Chapter 26

"You're thinking about having sex with him right now."

Blaine looked over at Puck and raised an eyebrow.

"It's kind of a talent of mine. It's not officially recognized in the registry of powers, but I think that's just because they're a little threatened by it. Married officials especially, because they're probably worried that I'll know when their lifemates are thinking about nailing me. Which, I'll be honest, is  _often._ Not that I can blame them."

Puck's cocky smile had made an appearance and was turned up to full blast.

"That's why I don't think Kurt's really Spiral," he continued. "Before he and Firae got married, Firae was practically executing people in his sleep, he wanted it so bad. And Kurt didn't have a clue. His legs were sewn up so tight he...uh...you probably don't really want to hear this, huh?"

"Actually, the idea of Kurt  _not_  having sex with Firae is a perfectly acceptable topic of conversation. Please continue."

"You  _were_  totally thinking about boning him though, weren't you?"

Blaine sighed.

"Yes."

Puck studied him for a moment.

"He and Firae aren't doing it, you know."

Blaine tried not to let his head snap up and his eyes widen with hope.

Tried and failed.

Puck smirked.

"How do you...uh...are you sure?"

Puck laughed. "Am  _I_  sure? I can smell sex a mile away, friend. Besides, Firae is being an asshole. Which only happens when his isn't getting filled, if you know what I mean."

"Puck? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Has anyone ever told you that you are absolutely  _disgusting?"_

Puck laughed. "You humans are such fucking prudes. But yes."

Blaine almost smiled.

"Seriously though, friend, Kurt's been...weird since he got back."

"What do you mean, weird?"

"Well, he isn't acting all flirty with Firae, which I suspect is probably because you've got him cockwhipped, but still – it's weird. It's like...well, before he was always so  _bored_  by politics, and he'd get all dramatic and sigh a lot when Firae wanted to talk about policy stuff, but now it seems like  _all_  he wants to talk to Firae about."

"Yes, well, I imagine his experiences over the past five years could have changed his priorities a bit."

"I guess...I just...I wonder..."

Blaine furrowed his brows and looked back up at Puck, not even realizing that he'd allowed his head and shoulders to droop once again.

Blaine was sitting on the edge of the bed in his cell. Puck was sitting at one of the two chairs around the small table in the center of the room. Other than the table, the room held a small cabinet containing small comforts such as extra blankets, thin, soft robes, and materials to shave, wash and clean his teeth with. The room also held two features that Blaine was endlessly fascinated with, and he could almost distract himself from thinking about Kurt when he toyed with them.

The first feature was a shallow bowl of water that came out of the wall level with Blaine's waist. The bowl held a drain that connected to a pipe that disappeared into the wall, and there was also a spout. If Blaine touched one rock, cold water would come out. If he touched the other, hot water would come. And if he touched the rock in the center, warm water would come. Puck told him it was the water-bearers, those Sidhe who possessed both the power to summon water and the power to compel, who allowed the Sidhe access to water on command in their own homes.

It was like nothing Blaine had ever seen before. It was beyond even the tubs filled from hot springs that he had experienced at inns in Villalu. The water was completely and utterly under his control.

Or rather, it was under the water-bearers' control. But they allowed him to feel as he were the one with the power to make the water come forth.

The second feature that continually fascinated Blaine was thanks to the light-keepers, who possessed both compulsion and the ability to manipulate fire. There was a dial made of wood on the wall next to Blaine's bed. When he turned it very slightly, four oil-lamps mounted on the walls burst into very small flames, like that of a candle. The more he turned the dial, the larger the flames became.

Blaine was idly fiddling with the dial while he listened to Puck talk about Kurt and Firae.

"It just seems like Kurt is trying to influence Firae politically."

Blaine shrugged. "He probably is. Like I said, I'm sure his experiences have-"

"No, no, I get that, Blaine. And I get that Kurt is madly in love with you and would rather sit in his room and sigh because of it than actually get it on with a very willing partner, which is something I am not cursed to understand, but I get it. He'll marry Firae even though he'd rather be with you because he had to experience some real shit over in Villalu and if he becomes King he'll be just as powerful as Firae and he can do something about it. We both know all that, so let's not fuck around and pretend it's not happening, all right?"

Blaine looked over at Puck, turning the lamps off in favor of the sunlight streaming through the windows.

"I don't know, Puck. I don't know how Kurt really feels about me."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Will you shut the fuck up about that? You and Kurt are  _ridiculous,_ okay? Don't be an idiot. What I'm  _saying_  is, he seems to be trying to influence Firae politically  _now._  Before marrying him. Maybe even  _without_  marrying him. I wouldn't give up just yet, Blaine."

Blaine realized that he had been holding his breath. He let it out slowly.

"Are you saying...I don't think...I mean, Kurt hasn't even come to visit me yet, and it's been three days. I know he won't let Firae kill me, but I don't know. I figured maybe he was feeling really conflicted, and-"

"Oh, he's feeling conflicted all right," Puck cut in. "But it isn't about how he  _feels_  about you. It's about what he  _should_  do. It's about what his options are. Also, I think Firae has been intentionally keeping Kurt as busy as possible so he can't find time to come and see you. But today, Firae has an important meeting with some delegates from the High Midlands. And Kurt's my friend. He tells me things."

"Um, such as?"

"Such as the fact that he's coming to see you this afternoon. So I think you should give yourself a shave and then let me take you to the community baths, because you are frankly starting to stink, and you don't want to kill Kurt's boner for you."

Blaine didn't even give Puck a disgusted look at his choice of language. He was still trapped in the first part of the statement.

_He's coming to see you this afternoon._

Kurt was coming to see him. Kurt was actually coming to see him.

Blaine ran to the mirror and flinched slightly at his own reflection.

"Puck," Blaine said desperately, "I look like  _hell._ "

"Yes you do," Puck agreed. "Which is why I suggested that you bathe."

Blaine began taking things out of the cabinet next to the stone bowl with the water spout.

"What should I use? What does this do? Can I shave with this?"

Blaine held up a bottle of slightly rose-tinted fluid.

"Um, I would not recommend shaving with that, Blaine."

"Why not?"

"It's oil of-" and when Puck said the name, Blaine felt himself blush. Puck had spoken the name of the red flower that he and Kurt used together. "I don't know what the Villaluan name for it is."

"I'm...not sure there is one. But I know what it is, yes."

Puck's face spread into a filthy smile. "Yeah, I'll just bet you do. Well, that's here for you to use...even if Kurt won't bone you right now, you can take care of your own needs, right? But yeah, shaving with it is probably a bad idea. Here, if you use this powder, you can mix it with water and it makes a kind of foamy paste..."

Puck familiarized Blaine with all of the products, and then graciously changed Blaine's bedding and set a simmering pot of something fresh and sweet-smelling on top of the cabinet while Blaine shaved. After shaving, Puck brought Blaine out of his cell for the first time since he had set foot in Cloudlen.

* * *

"I'm just saying, Firae, that it might be a good idea if I started attending some of these meetings with you," Kurt stated casually as the two took a morning stroll through the gardens of the Great Hall.

Firae chuckled. "You never cared about politics before," he said for what felt like the eight-hundredth time.

"Yes, I know. And now I do," Kurt snapped.

Firae's smile faltered. "It's just...strange to try and get used to," he said. "Before, you always said that I could worry about affairs of state and you would worry about keeping our home filled with music and flowers."

Kurt sighed. "There's more to life than music and flowers, Firae. I wish I could have learned that in a different way."

Firae squeezed his hand. "Me too," he said softly.

Kurt squeezed back. "Firae, if you still want me to be your other King..."

"Of course I do," Firae said without hesitation.

"Well, wouldn't it make sense for me to familiarize myself with what a King  _does?_  I'm not the sort to just host luncheons and plan concerts anymore, Firae. And if that means I'm no longer the sort of man you want to be with..."

"Kurt," Firae said gently, "stop." He tugged on Kurt's hand to still him.

"You are exactly the sort of man I want to marry. You are the  _only_  sort of man I want to marry. But Kurt...affairs of state, they...what I mean to say is, you..."

Kurt glared at him. "Are you trying to say that I'm not clever enough to participate in the running of the Queendom?"

"No. I am not trying to say that at all. I...all right, Kurt, I am going to be honest with you. You never paid much attention to your history or social policy classes, and you never paid very much attention to current events outside of which flowers and perfumes were in fashion, and don't look at me like that, because you know what I'm saying is true."

"You're saying I'm too  _frivolous_ to participate in the running of the Queendom."

"I'm saying I'd feel more comfortable with finding you a tutor before you delve into the sort of complex and delicate matters that affect hundreds of thousands of lives, Kurt."

Kurt sighed, stroking a petal on the tall orange flower beside him with his thumb.

"How long will that take?" he asked.

"Are you in some sort of hurry?" Firae asked in a teasing tone.

"Well...yes. Sort of." Firae arched an eyebrow at him. "It's the non-interference doctrine, Firae. It's...it's the slavery in Villalu, and the mess at the border, and-"

"It's an immutable doctrine, Kurt."

Kurt scoffed. "So-called immutable doctrines have been overturned before, Firae."

"Such as?"

Kurt scowled at him.

"Let's find you a good tutor, and then we can come back to this discussion, all right?"

Kurt smiled slightly. "All right. But I get to choose my tutor."

Firae laughed. "You are such a spoiled brat!"

"You don't know the half of it," Kurt replied with a smirk, "because there is only  _one_  tutor that is good enough for me to accept."

Firae shrugged. "Fine. Whoever you want, Kurt."

"Thank you. There is someone I'll be needing you to pardon from exile."

Firae gaped at him.

"I told you you didn't know the half of it," Kurt said with a laugh, as he strode back toward the Great Hall.

* * *

The baths of Cloudlen were like nothing Blaine had ever seen.

It had taken he and Puck about twenty minutes to walk to them, Blaine losing the thread of Puck's constant monologue fairly often but never finding it difficult to disguise his daydreaming; Puck's discussion topics never strayed far from sex, drunkenness, or Puck's own prowess at everything he touched, his two favorite subjects included.

Cloudlen was beautiful.

There were houses that reminded Blaine of the plant-mounds in S'aufa, but these seemed larger and more complex. There were also homes built into the enormous stems of flower-trees, and even a couple of small rock caves.

The most impressive structure by far, however, was the Great Hall. Six enormous flower-trees anchored the Hall, their canopies of translucent white petals joining together into one mass against the vivid blue sky. Each trunklike stem comprised a tower , and between the trees were innumerable vines, laced together tightly to form the hall itself. The flowers that dotted these vines were of every color Blaine had ever seen, and some that he never had. The vines grew to just below the canopy of white petals, suggesting at least three floors within the Hall itself.

Blaine desperately wanted to see the inside of the Hall as well. Partly out of a pure sense of curiosity and wonder, but also to secure proof that Kurt was, indeed, staying in his own room rather with Firae as Puck had claimed.

But all thoughts of the hall fled from his mind when Blaine caught his first true glimpse of the baths.

He had seen them off in the distance, obscured by foliage, from his cell in the tower, but he hadn't realized what it was that he was seeing.

As he and Puck reached the crest of a large hill a ways before the baths, Blaine froze, gasping in wonder. Puck chuckled. "Beautiful, aren't they?"

They were.

From their vantage point atop the hill, Blaine could see the baths in their entirety. To his right, there was another large hill, the crown of it almost entirely taken up by an enormous crater in the ground. The crater was filled to the brim with sparkling water the color of Kurt's eyes. On the left-hand side of the crater, several rivulets and small waterfalls veered off, traveling down the hill and pausing to feed smaller pools of the same sparkling water, before continuing on their path. The gentle slope of the hillside was dotted with too many small pools for Blaine to count. After leveling off, the streams re-joined and ended in a second enormous crater full of gleaming, fresh water.

After gazing for a moment, Blaine noticed something about some of the figures he saw frolicking in the pools.

Some Sidhe were using the streams to float downward, from stream to stream. And some, in other streams, seemed to be floating  _upward._

"Puck...how..."

Puck laughed again, taken with Blaine's overwhelming awe at the scene before them.

"The water-bearers, Blaine. We probably have the most talent east of the Western Midlands. Our baths are world-renowned."

"Not in Villalu," Blaine muttered, bitter that he had spent his life in such a harsh, bland place.

"Well, Villalu isn't really the  _world_ , Blaine. It's more like..."

"More like someplace you all would rather not think about."

"Exactly," Puck responded brightly. "Now come on, let's get wet, bitch!"

Blaine tried not to snort with laughter. He would have to find out who exactly had taught Puck to speak Villaluan. He wondered if Puck really understood what he was saying half the time.

Gazing after Puck as he scurried across the rocks in their path, Blaine considered.

Perhaps it  _was_ possible that Puck didn't really understand what he was saying. But if so, it was probably just because he hadn't managed to learn anything  _more_  crass or offensive, and was just making do with what he had.

The baths were lovely. They were even prettier up close than from the hilltop, and the smell of flowers scented the air heavily. Blaine saw bushes of the same puffy white flowers that had made a sort of soap for Kurt and himself in the stream at the shrine.

Several Sidhe were walking about, naked and unselfconscious beneath the midday sun. Blaine couldn't help but blush slightly and try to avert his eyes. He fidgeted with his own clothing before quickly pulling his tunic over his head.

"Hey, Blaine!" Blaine looked up without thinking, horrified to see Puck bounding toward him completely naked, his cock bouncing with each footfall. Blaine looked away, crimson.

"Oh Gods, Blaine, just strip already. You're acting like a virgin at Beltane."

Blaine was about to ask what Beltane was when Puck leaned in a little too close.

"Okay, look. Chances are, a lot of these ladies are going to think you're the most adorable thing they've ever laid eyes on. This is your chance to convince me to give you and Kurt a little alone time later today. So just look for red bracelets, all right?"

Blaine blinked. "Red bracelets?"

Puck held up his wrist. Blaine supposed he had noticed the bracelet before, but he hadn't paid it much attention. It was simply three small red gems threaded into braided twine. "It's...uh...an indicator of relationship status? You guys have something like this, don't you?"

"We have wedding rings," Blaine ventured with a shrug. "To signify marriage. It's usually only the women that wear them, though."

"Then how do the ladies know whether or not a man is available?"

Blaine shrugged. "Villaluan society involves a lot of...navigating for women."

Puck snorted. "No  _thank_  you. This pretty little bracelet has gotten me more action than your tiny human mind could  _handle_ , friend."

"What does it mean exactly? That you've committed yourself to a life of random, anonymous sex?"

Puck laughed heartily. "More or less. Without the commitment part. We of the red bracelet avoid commitment in all forms, even to the red bracelet itself."

Blaine wanted to ask what the other indicators of relationship status were, but he realized that they could just as easily be having this very conversation in the water. Without giving himself a chance to think it through, Blaine quickly untied his boots and peeled off his trousers and undershorts.

The water was slightly warm, and clear as mountain air. There were small creatures flitting about beneath the surface, including what looked to Blaine like aquatic pixies, but none seemed to be the biting kind. The crater was carpeted with soft white sand.

And Puck was right. Before they could get into a discussion of the relationship signifiers in eastern Sidhe society, Blaine found himself enveloped in a crowd of cooing young Sidhe, both male and female, as well as some whose gender Blaine was unable to pinpoint.

Most of his admirers couldn't speak a word of Villaluan, giving Puck the opportunity to translate.

"I  _wish_  it were still legal to keep pets," Puck translated for a honey-haired woman, "you are the cutest thing I've ever seen." Puck finished with a wink.

Blaine scowled. "Tell her I'm very glad that keeping pets  _is_  illegal, and if she's so nostalgic for slavery, she'd probably just  _love_  living in Villalu."

"That answer doesn't inspire me to give you time alone with Kurt, Blaine."

"Fine," Blaine ground out. He smiled, placing a hand on Puck's shoulder and winking at the honey-haired Sidhe. "Tell her whatever you want to impress her, Puck," Blaine said in a cheerful voice, looking at the woman. "But could you please just ask all of them to stop touching my ears? It's making me feel a little cheap."

"If you have to feel a little cheap so I can feel a  _lot_  cheap, so be it, friend," Puck said, steering Blaine slightly to the right. "Now, straight ahead, brown hair, brown eyes. See her? Go let her play with your ears. I'll be right over to chuckle and good-naturedly scold you."

"Like I'm a  _dog?"_  Blaine demanded, deeply offended.

"I don't even know what that is."

"Dogs are kept as pets."

"Oh. Then, no. Not like a dog."

"I don't mean pet in the sense that you probably think I do. There is no...mind control, or...or sex or anything. They're just simpler creatures than us and we train them and keep them as companions..."

Puck continued to look confused.

"Kind of like...grimchins?" Blaine guessed.

"Oh. Then, yes. Go be like a house grimchin with cute ears. Do dogs have cute ears?"

"Um, actually, yes. Most of the time."

"A dog it is, then. Go be a dog."

"I think I might have preferred Brec," Blaine muttered, as he went over to let yet another woman with a red bracelet play with his ears.

The things he would endure for a bit of time alone with Kurt.

* * *

When Puck finally brought Blaine back to his cell, Kurt was waiting for them.

Blaine was pleased that he had brought a change of clothes with him to the baths, and was now looking reasonably fresh and presentable and as fetching as he could manage without turning himself into a burgundy-eyed Sidhe King.

"Hi," Blaine said softly, as Puck unlocked the door to his room to let the three of them in.

"Hi," Kurt returned with a smile.

"All right, then," Puck said, glancing between the two of them, unsure if either man heard him over the intensity of the gaze they shared.

"So, I'm going to go have a little visit with the lovely young woman you introduced me to at the baths, Blaine."

"Mmmmm." Blaine didn't so much as roll his eyes or snarkily inquire as to  _which_  young woman Puck was referring.

"And...you both know that if Firae finds out I left the two of you alone..."

"Uh huh," Kurt responded dreamily.

" _Kurt!"_ Puck grabbed his arm and pulled him around to look at him.

"Puck, stop  _manhandling_  me!" Kurt huffed, pulling his arm free. "Yes, I heard you. Thank you for doing this, I will make sure that Firae doesn't find out, and now I would like you to please  _go away._ "

"All right. I'll be back a little before Kiiz's shift," Puck mumbled, referring to one of Blaine's two other guards.

"The gods will be singing your tale across generations," Kurt responded absently, waving Puck away with his hand.

As soon as the sound of Puck's footsteps had receded a bit, Blaine flat-out  _launched_  himself at Kurt. Kurt caught him in his arms without a second's hesitation, and then somehow they were kissing with feverish desperation, Kurt already steering them toward the bed.

"Kurt," Blaine breathed, as Kurt's lips moved to his neck. "Kurt, I...do you...I don't know if...oh,  _God,_ Kurt..."

The backs of Blaine's knees bumped against the edge of the bed and they tumbled onto it, tangling together completely.

Blaine was lost. He was so lost, he didn't know if he could ever find his way out of the beautiful haze that was the sight and scent and feel of Kurt, real and solid in his arms. But he had to try. He knew he had to try.

Because Blaine knew exactly what Kurt was to him. But he had come to realize that he didn't know what he was to Kurt at  _all._

With a magnitude of focus and self-discipline that would have stunned his instructors at the Academy, Blaine pushed Kurt off of him, his palms flat against his chest to keep him an arm's length away. Kurt's eyes were wild with equal parts lust, shock and confusion.

"Kurt," Blaine said evenly, forcing himself to breathe normally. "We can't just...I need to know what's going on. Between us and...and you and Firae."

Kurt's eyes flickered, and Blaine's heart sank when he saw the familiar retreat. Iron gates crashing behind the gorgeous pools of blue, locking him up tight, rendering those expressive eyes utterly and completely unreadable.

"Blaine, I told you...from the very start, I  _told_  you that it was complicated. I told you that I couldn't stay with you. I just...what do you want from me?"

"You're asking me that again?" Blaine responded softly, his voice bruised with pain. He dropped his hands from Kurt's chest and moved into a sitting position, scooting backward until his back was flush against the curved wall.

Kurt bit his lip to keep it from shaking. Back at that very first clearing, after Blaine had passed out from riding so hard to get Kurt away from Dronyen's palace, Kurt had asked him that. There had been no trust, no reason for Kurt to believe that Blaine wasn't simply another human man who wanted him for one twisted purpose or another. At the time it hadn't occurred to Kurt that Blaine might want only to help him. And to love him.

And now? Now Blaine was essentially asking Kurt what he wanted, and Kurt was shutting him out and denying him the trust he had so undeniably earned. He was acting like  _Blaine_  was the one that owed  _him_  an explanation, as if Blaine hadn't spent the past three days in a cell without any communication from Kurt after watching Kurt walk away from him, hand-in-hand with his former fiance.

Kurt winced in the face of his own selfishness.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said with a sigh, reaching for Blaine's hand and flinching when Blaine drew it back from him.

"Blaine, please."

Blaine clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, taking a moment to breathe before responding.

"Please what?" He finally whispered, opening his eyes to look at Kurt.

"Please  _what,_  Kurt? Please just shut up and while away the hours in this fucking tree trunk while you traipse around making wedding plans and stopping in to see me every now and then when you want to get laid?"

"Blaine!"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Blaine very nearly roared.

"Because I didn't...I didn't want to  _ruin_  everything! I just wanted to be with you while...while I could."

"So you were doing it for yourself, without regard to how it would make me feel."

"Blaine, no. I...I  _told_  you it couldn't last! When I told you that I love you, I also told you that it didn't change anything. I tried not to tell you at all, but you just pushed and pushed..."

"All right. So I pushed. But I just..."

Blaine trailed off, and a thick blanket of silence fell across them. They didn't look at one another. Neither could bear it.

"Kurt," Blaine finally said gently, all traces of anger gone from his voice. "When we were together in Villalu, even though you knew that you were coming back here, you were mine, weren't you? Completely?"

"Yes," Kurt whispered.

"And now?"

Kurt wiped a tear from his cheek. "I don't know."

"But...is there even a chance, Kurt? Even the tiniest chance that we could still be together?"

"Blaine...I'm sorry. But I don't even know that. I don't think...I can't see how...I just don't know, Blaine."

Blaine nodded, fighting back his own tears.

"Okay. When you do know, Kurt, let  _me_  know. But in the meantime...if I'm going to be stuck here, I do want you to visit, all right? But just...just to talk. I won't share you with him, Kurt. I love you so much it's physically painful sometimes, but I can't share you because that would probably kill me."

Kurt nodded silently and stood up to leave. When he reached the doorway he paused to look at Blaine. Blaine continued to avoid looking him in the eye.

"I understand," Kurt said. "And I...I never wanted to hurt you. But I think you're right, and I have been selfish. Because even though I didn't  _want_ to hurt you, I knew that I would. And I gave myself to you anyway, because I wanted it. Because I wanted  _you._ I'm just...I'm so sorry, Blaine."

"It was worth it," Blaine murmured. "Even if this is how it ends, it was worth it to be with you, Kurt."

Kurt swallowed. "Of course it was worth it. It was more than worth it. I don't think I'll ever stop loving you, Blaine."

Blaine finally looked up and met Kurt's eyes. They only held the gaze for a few seconds before it became far too painful to endure.

And then, feeling like he was held together by the most frail and delicate threads imaginable, Kurt left, closing the cell door firmly behind him before allowing himself to completely fall apart.


	27. Chapter 27

"Do you love him?"

Kurt looked up at Tash from the text he was reading.

"Pardon?"

"You heard me."

"I hardly think that has anything to do with the Sylph Wars, Tash."

"And I hardly think you had your King go to all the trouble of plucking me out of Z'auli and lifting my exile east of the Midlands just so I could help you with your history lessons, Kurt."

"I found your communication style to be very compatible with my learning style during our brief time together in Villalu," Kurt defended loftily.

Tash rolled his eyes. "Fine, then. The Sylph Wars. So what was Queen Surc's motivation in-"

"Which one?"

"Pardon?"

"Which one are you asking me about? Blaine or Firae?"

"Really, Kurt?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, I'm obviously not asking about Blaine.  _Pixies_  can see how much you love him. No, Firae. He obviously loves you if he let me into the Queendom even though they're going to throw a fit about the pardon in the Lower Midlands. And he's left Blaine alive, and comfortably situated no less."

"He's...a very kind and reasonable man," Kurt said uneasily.

"You're sleeping in a separate bedchamber."

"Well, yes, but he's-"

Tash snorted. "Nobody is  _that_  kind and reasonable, Kurt. He's completely in love with you. This isn't going to be a political marriage for him. This is a love match. Is it the same for you?"

Kurt sighed heavily. "I...it's complicated, Tash."

"It is complicated," Tash agreed softly. "But that's no excuse, Kurt. It's more than just Blaine's heart you're playing with here, and I think your King deserves to know how you really feel."

Kurt looked at Tash as if searching him desperately for answers.

"I don't know how I really feel."

"Well, Kurt," Tash replied, slowly closing the text in front of Kurt on the table, "right now both of the men in your life are suffering, and the Sylph Wars happened five thousand years ago. I think figuring out how you feel may take priority at the moment."

* * *

Kurt allowed Firae to kiss him.

It was a perplexing experience on a number of levels.

First, there was the fact that he had always loved kissing Firae. They had skipped lessons in order to kiss for hours when they had been younger. They had played games, chasing after one another so that the boy in pursuit could tackle the other one and kiss him breathless, gasping nervously when their bodies responded more actively than they really understood.

But now...he didn't love it. He didn't hate it, because Firae was a very good kisser, and he really did love Kurt, and Kurt felt safe with him, but he didn't love it. It didn't send a thrill down his spine. It didn't make him tingle all across and underneath his skin, so that all he could do was shiver and melt.

No, those things didn't happen.

Because those were things that only seemed to happen when he kissed Blaine.

The second issue was that he couldn't even concentrate on kissing Firae, because he was too busy trying not to think about kissing Blaine. It was tempting to pretend it was Blaine that was kissing him, but he couldn't do it because Blaine and Firae were very different kissers, and to pretend that it was Blaine right now, kissing in Firae's style, would only corrupt the memory of how it really felt to kiss Blaine. And Kurt was not going to allow anything to  _touch_  those memories. Those memories were for when he was alone and didn't have to pretend for everyone else. In those moments he could close his eyes and remember what it was like to completely lose himself while simultaneously just being himself in the most pure way possible.

Because that was how it felt to kiss Blaine.

The third issue was that he found himself disengaging from the kisses he and Firae were sharing.

When Kurt had been enslaved, he had been used in many different ways by many different men. To keep himself sane, to keep some part of himself free from their abuse and control, Kurt had disengaged. He had imagined that his body was one entity and his mind was another, and he had actively pushed himself into memories and daydreams. He had clung to them as tightly as possible. Often, especially in the early years, they had been memories of Firae.

And then Blaine had rescued him. And then Kurt had grown to trust him. And when he and Blaine had begun to kiss and touch each other, he found that it was different from being used in every way, and he didn't disengage at all. For the first time since being enslaved, Kurt had stayed fully in his body while being kissed and touched. He had assumed that it would be the same when Firae kissed him. After all, Firae was kissing him tenderly, and he had asked Kurt if it was all right first. And when they were younger he had never disengaged; when they were younger being with Firae was all he wanted to think about most of the time.

So why was this happening? Why, while Firae kissed him, did Kurt feel the familiar tug to follow his mind elsewhere, to think about songs from childhood and his mother's eyes and the sparkle of the moonlight on the baths of Cloudlen?

It was because he didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be doing this.

He wanted to be with Blaine.

* * *

"Do you love him?"

Kurt looked up from the flowers he was arranging on the table in front of him.

"Pardon?"

Sree never spoke to him unless it was absolutely necessary, and Kurt was pretty sure she wasn't even on duty at the moment.

"The human. Do you actually love it? Uh, him, I mean. Do you actually love him?"

Kurt quirked an eyebrow. "Why are you asking me that? Why do you even care?"

"I care because I care about Firae," Sree said firmly. "He was almost over you, you know. Less than a year before the grieving period would have ended, and he was already discussing possible suitors."

She searched Kurt's face for signs of anger or jealousy. Kurt did his best to approximate them, but he wasn't fast enough, and Sree was shrewd.

"You don't love him," she said pointedly.

"I...what? You just asked me-"

"Firae. You don't love him. You're using him because you want to be King."

"No."

"Really."

"Yes, really. I- I care about Firae very deeply. He's  _family_ , Sree. He's...I'm not using him. But I won't deny that I want to be King. There are important changes that need to happen, and I want to see them through."

Sree rolled her eyes. "So you had a few rough years, and now you want to be the next savior for the poor, exiled criminals in Villalu. Let's see how devoted you still are once you're used to proper baths and clean linens and pretty clothes and regular massages, Kurt."

"Sree, why are you such a-"

Kurt stopped himself and sighed.

I appreciate that you care about Firae, Sree," he said, keeping his tone as kind as possible. "But this really isn't any of your concern."

"This is  _completely_  my concern. You...well, I'm not the only one with some concerns about you being appointed King. There are many who are politically opposed to this union, and if there's someone else you love better, maybe you ought to just-"

"It's not that simple."

"Actually, I would argue that it  _is._  It's precisely that simple. And you know that there's only one way out of a marriage to a royal once you've been mated." Sree walked a few paces closer to him. "And I know how fond you are of your pretty neck, Kurt," she added in a low voice.

Kurt simply glared at her, and went back to arranging the flowers.

"Just stop treating Firae like a  _pet,_ " Sree admonished as she turned to leave the room. "That's what you've got your human on hand for, right?"

Kurt swore softly as his fingers faltered and he pricked his thumb on a thorn.

* * *

Firae pulled away from the kiss he was sharing with Kurt, frowning.

"Kurt, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Kurt said, trying to sound dreamy and breathless. But Firae knew him far too well.

"Please don't lie to me, Kurt," Firae said softly, sounding hurt.

Kurt sighed. "I'm sorry. I just...it's hard, Firae. You know what I've been through. It's hard to...I think the physical side of things is just...it might take some time. That's all."

Kurt willed Firae to simply accept his words, to squeeze his hand and say he understood, to do or say anything other than ask him-

"But what about  _him,_  Kurt? It didn't take very much time for you to become physical with him, did it?"

Firae still refused to refer to Blaine by his name. His tone was not harsh or accusatory, however. Just...sad.

Kurt felt like he was making everyone sad, himself included. Why did doing the right thing make him feel like such a horrible person?

"It's...different, Firae," Kurt offered lamely.

"How  _precisely_  is it different, Kurt?"

Kurt sighed deeply, trying to desperately come up with an answer that wouldn't be a lie and also wouldn't get Blaine killed.

"You were going to be my husband, Firae."

"Well, yes, Kurt, and I hope that I still will be."

"I...I wanted to wait until our wedding night. It was important to me. It still is. Isn't it important to you?"

"You didn't wait until the wedding to kiss me."

"I was  _just_  kissing you!  _Minutes_  ago!"

"Only in the strictest sense. You were a galaxy away, Kurt."

"I...no, I..."

"And you used to let me touch you," Firae added softly. "You used to like it when I touched you."

"I'm sorry," Kurt said sadly.

"I'm not looking for an apology, Kurt, I'm looking for an explanation."

Kurt chewed his lip nervously.

"It's him, isn't it?" Firae asked.

Kurt didn't answer.

* * *

"Do you love him?"

Kurt did not look up from Blaine's lute, which he was holding in his hands while absentmindedly stroking the strings. He had brought it to Blaine because he thought he might like to have it with him. It had also been an excuse to visit.

"I..." Kurt couldn't look at him. If he looked at him he would shatter into a million pieces. He continued to study the lute.

"He's family, Blaine," Kurt finally answered softly.

"So is that a yes or a no?"

"How can I not love my family?"

Blaine heaved a frustrated sigh.

"Kurt, you  _know_  what I'm asking. I think the least I deserve is an answer."

Kurt sat down, still not meeting Blaine's eyes.

"I love him," he admitted.

There was a moment of heavy silence that felt like it lasted years.

"Oh," Blaine finally said, his voice cracking slightly even on the single syllable, and Kurt forced himself to keep his eyes trained on the instrument he was holding because he could  _not_  endure the look on Blaine's face right now.

Kurt bit his lip to hold back all of the additional information that Blaine didn't need to hear, because really, how could it help the situation? Blaine didn't need to know that while Kurt loved Firae very much, it was only a fraction of the love he felt for Blaine. He didn't need to know how much Kurt wished he could marry Blaine instead, how much he wished that he could be selfish and have what he wanted and ignore the rest of the world.

Blaine didn't need to know that walking away from him was making Kurt die inside.

He didn't need to know because it would change absolutely nothing, and would only make Blaine cling harder to a possibility that had never really existed in the first place.

"I...I brought you your lute," Kurt whispered, almost too quietly for Blaine to hear, before setting the instrument down on the table and quickly heading out the door.

Blaine didn't reply.

* * *

"You're in love with him."

Kurt looked at Firae. Firae looked like he was waiting for an answer, even though he had not phrased it as a question.

"If I say yes, you'll kill him. Or have him killed."

"Then say no."

"Firae...I've never lied to you, have I?"

"Not to my knowledge, no."

"I haven't," Kurt confirmed. "So, why are you trying to...trap me like this?"

"I'm not trying to  _trap_ you, Kurt, I'm just trying to get the truth out of you."

"Why does it even  _matter_  how I feel about him, Firae? Shouldn't the only thing that matters be how I feel about you?"

"And how  _do_  you feel about me?"

"I love you," Kurt answered simply. "I've always loved you. Can't you see that?"

"It's different now."

Kurt sighed and looked out the window at the North tower in the distance. "Yes. It's different now."

"Couldn't you just let Blaine go?" Kurt continued softly, after silence had stretched between them for a bit longer than was strictly comfortable. "He's no threat to you, Firae. If you just let him go, we can...move on."

Firae joined Kurt at the window, frowning at the tower in the distance. "We can't move on anyhow? Right now? With him here?"

"It would be quite difficult," Kurt said honestly.

"And if I..."

Kurt looked him in the eye. "If any harm comes to him while he is in your care, Firae, no matter how 'accidental' it may appear, I will leave you. But if you let him go to Khryslee, then our problems are over and I am yours."

Firae leaned his elbows on the windowsill. "All right."

Kurt looked at him in surprise.

"Really?"

Firae sighed irritably. "Yes, really. As long as he stays in Khryslee. I make no promises about what I might do if he comes back for you."

Kurt turned his face away slightly so that Firae wouldn't see the tears in his eyes. "He won't," Kurt said softly.

"Well, then. Sooner rather than later, I suppose. I'll let Puck know that he and Kiiz can set out with the human in the morning."

Kurt furrowed his brow. "I don't think we'll need Puck  _and_  Kiiz to go with us, Firae."

Firae narrowed his eyes at Kurt.

"We? Us? I do not think so."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Say your goodbyes here, Kurt. You are  _not_  accompanying him to Khryslee."

"What? Of course I am! I have to see him safely there, Firae. I  _have_ to!"

"And you don't trust Puck and Kiiz? I thought they were your friends. I thought that was why you have them watching him in the first place."

"I trust them. That isn't the point. I need to get him there. I need to see, with my  _own eyes,_  that he is safe. I can't completely be with you until that happens."

"Well, that is not happening before you marry me."

Kurt glanced at Firae, and then at the North tower in the distance.

"Well, then," he said. "I suppose we should go ahead and get married."

Firae smiled. "Yes. We should. I will speak to the priestesses about arranging soul-walks and a ceremony in the next week."

 _The next week?_  Kurt's head was spinning. He had been so good at holding off the inevitable, but here it was. Firae was going to waste no time. Also...Kurt didn't know if he could handle...

"Do we really need to soul-walk again? I mean, last time I definitely decided to marry you, Firae, and I imagine you came to the same conclusion, so-"

"Kurt. We need to soul-walk again." Firae said it firmly, leaving no room for argument. "It's tradition, it's been five years, and...well, things are more complicated now than they were last time. We need to know that this is still the right thing for both of us. This is forever, Kurt. We need to take it seriously."

Kurt drew a deep breath, but then nodded. "Of course. You're right."

"Now, who would you like to visit? The Mother again?"

"No," Kurt answered quickly. "No, I...uh...don't particularly care to travel through Villalu again."

"Of course not," Firae agreed, bowining his head slightly. "I'm sorry, I didn't think about-"

"Firae, it's fine. Just...tell the priestesses I'll be visiting the shrine of someone new this year."

"Any idea who?"

Kurt smiled in what he hoped was a nonchalant fashion.

"Yes," he answered. "The Blessed Guardian of the Sands that Carpet the World."


	28. Chapter 28

"All right, this is not healthy, Blaine."

Blaine didn't open his eyes. He was lying on top of his bed, his untouched dinner on the table to his left.

_I love him._

_I love him._

_I love him._

It was like a droning background noise inside Blaine's head that made it impossible for him to concentrate on anything else. Kurt loved Firae. Blaine now lived in a world where he knew this to be true. Kurt wasn't just going to marry Firae because he thought he had to. It seemed increasingly likely that Kurt was going to marry Firae because he  _wanted_  to.

Blaine hated his life and he didn't care if he never left his cell and he hoped that Puck would just go away.

"I'm not going away."

Blaine sighed, but didn't open his eyes, even when he felt the weight of Puck sitting down on the bed next to him.

"This is getting pathetic. You're not even good for attracting ladies anymore. You've gotten too depressing."

Blaine continued to ignore him.

"Blaine, snap out of it. Your whole life can't be about one person. There's probably  _plenty_  of men to bone in Khryslee. You don't see me lying in my own filth and moaning about some woman."

Blaine opened his eyes and propped himself on his elbows.

"First of all, Puck, I am not lying in my own  _filth,_  thank you very much. And second-" Blaine held up his wrist dramatically- "note the absence of a red bracelet. I don't just want a willing partner. I want...I want someone to be in love with. Someone who loves me just as much."

Blaine let his arm fall back down to his side.

"Okay, I get it. I know you're miserable right now, and if I were into fucking men, I would definitely do what I could to make you feel better, but seriously, friend. There is a world beyond Kurt."

Blaine simply stared at Puck for a moment, unsure of which part of the statement he should react to, or even what his reaction should be.

"I mean...what did you want to do with your life before you met him?"

Blaine considered. That was a very good question. He could certainly tell Puck what he had been  _planning_  to do – work for Dronyen and continue to get promoted and then maybe buy a better house for his mother when he could afford it and...well, things got a bit fuzzy after that. But he'd never really thought about what he  _wanted_ to do.

"I don't think I ever really knew," Blaine answered honestly. "There was never anything that I really  _wanted_  for my future until...well, until Kurt."

"Okay, but what if you never met Kurt? Or what if he died or something?"

"Puck! Don't even  _say_  that!"

Puck raised an eyebrow at him. "Really, Blaine? Because you know that even if you and Kurt got married and went off to spend years fucking and...I don't know, watching sunsets and shit in Khryslee,  _he_  would have to deal with that. You're human, and you are going to die much, much sooner than any of us. Kurt's going to have to think about a future without you no matter what happens. So...you know, you should too. It's only fair."

Blaine sat up completely and began absentmindedly playing with the lamp dial on the wall.

"I think you may have a point, Puck," he finally admitted. "But I honestly have no idea what I want to do."

"Well," Puck replied, maybe I can help you. I'm pretty good at this kind of thing."

"Oh? Did you always want to be a guard for the King?"

Puck laughed. "Nah, I'm actually just a reservist, but I'm doing this as a favor to Kurt. My real job is helping to manage the baths. I'm a water-bearer."

"Oh. Wow. That's...amazing, Puck. I had no idea."

Puck shrugged, but made no attempt at humility. "Yeah, I am pretty awesome at it. And it's a great way to meet ladies."

"But...why did Kurt ask you to guard me? If there are so many other guards and you already have a job, I mean."

Puck smirked. "Well, Kurt is my friend. And most members of the guard are really loyal to Firae, and some of them aren't such big fans of Kurt. Kurt wanted you with someone he could trust."

Blaine nodded, wondering how anyone could dislike Kurt.

"Also, I speak flawless Villaluan, and Kurt wanted you to be around someone you could talk to. There are only three members of the guard who are fluent and who Kurt trusts. Kiiz and Vrac you know," Puck said, referring to Blaine's other two guards who watched him when Puck was off-duty, and Runa...Kurt didn't want Runa spending time with you."

"Why not?" Blaine asked, puzzled.

Puck laughed. "He didn't exactly say, but I'd wager it's because Runa's this really sexy guy who would  _totally_  want to bone you, and I don't think Kurt wanted him to...uh...you know... _bone you._ "

Blaine felt his face creep into his first small smile of the day.

"Kurt was jealous?" He asked softly, not sure if he should be admonishing himself for the comfort it gave him.

Puck laughed.  _"Hell_  yeah, Kurt was jealous. But, Blaine...we're kind of still just talking about Kurt. I thought we were going to talk about  _you._ "

Blaine sighed. "I know. But what else do I even have?"

"Well, you  _don't_  have him anymore." Puck visibly winced at his own statement, but didn't back away from it. "Sorry. I don't mean to be a dick. But...well, what are some other things you like, besides Kurt?"

Blaine continued to fiddle with the dial on the wall. It was true, he didn't have Kurt anymore. And short of simply taking his own life, there was no solution except to move forward.

Not that he hadn't thought of taking his own life. But...well, initially he had dismissed the idea because he knew how much it would upset Kurt. But the truth was that Blaine wasn't done living. He was still only twenty (or perhaps twenty-one by now, he mused, wondering what month it was), and he had learned there was a place in the world where he could be himself. Whether or not he was being himself with Kurt. And in all honesty, he did still want to go to Khryslee.

But what  _did_  he like besides Kurt?

"You like having sex with men," Puck supplied helpfully. "There's always a living to be made in that."

"No," Blaine answered firmly.

"Well, at least I'm  _trying_ here, friend."

"I'm good with weapons," Blaine ventured. Puck looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head.

"Probably wouldn't do you much good in Khryslee, to be honest. Even  _hunting_  is prohibited there."

"I...well...I like cheese," Blaine muttered feebly.

To his surprise, Puck's eyes lit up. "Well, hey! That's an idea! You could be a cheesemaker or a dairy farmer or the like. I hear the dairy trade is fucking  _lucrative_  in Khryslee."

"But Puck, I don't know anything about actually  _making_ cheese or raising goats or cows or-"

"But you know you like cheese, right? It's like, before you had sex, you didn't know what you were doing, but you knew you liked dick, so you learned. Same thing."

Puck smiled, looking very satisfied with the analogy.

Blaine also smiled a bit, in spite of himself.

"Thanks, Puck. I just don't know how I'm even going to get started, though. I don't have any money, or...do they even have money in Khryslee?"

Puck shrugged. "Mostly they barter, I think, though there may be some kind of coinage in circulation too. I'm not sure. But as far as getting started, Kurt will make sure you're set up. You saved his life and got him home and fucked his brains out the whole way here. He won't just leave you out to dry."

Blaine sighed. No, Kurt wouldn't leave him out to dry. He would  _leave_  him, certainly, but he did seem to still care about Blaine, and so Kurt would help him get situated in this new life.

This new life that felt like it would only ever be hollow and colorless and gray.

Blaine wondered if his heart would ever heal. He wondered if he would ever get over Kurt. He wondered if he would ever be happy again.

He didn't know. All he did know was that he had lost Kurt forever, and that made him feel restless. Restless to get out of this cell, to get out of Cloudlen, even to get away from Puck simply because Puck  _knew_  Kurt.

"I wonder if Firae is ever going to let me go," he grumbled.

Puck looked at him with surprise. "Oh. Didn't Kurt tell you?"

Blaine looked at him. "Tell me what?"

"Firae said he'll let you go. He even said Kurt can bring you to Khryslee-" Blaine's heart leapt- "after the wedding." The leap ended in a crippling crash.

"Oh," Blaine answered, his voice small. He took a deep breath. "Puck, does that mean- when is the wedding? Do you know?"

Puck paused for a bit too long before meeting Blaine's eyes.

"Yes," he finally said, sounding sadder and more serious than Blaine had ever heard him. "They are taking their soul-walks tomorrow. And the next day-"

"They'll be married," Blaine finished in a whisper.

"Yes."

"I just thought - do you think – I mean, I thought Kurt would visit me before...why didn't he tell me himself?"

"Probably because he's been pretending to meditate for the last two days but he's actually been crying his eyes out in his room," Puck answered softly, still in that serious tone. "Blaine, I don't know if he  _can._  Tomorrow night, the betrothed are only allowed to interact with one another after the soul-walk, and tonight...I've just never seen him like this."

Blaine simply nodded, a tear sliding down his cheek. It gave him no relief to know that this was painful for Kurt as well.

"Puck?" He asked softly.

"Yes?"

"Could you...I don't mean to be rude, but could I have some time to myself please?"

Puck nodded and stood. "Sure," he answered gently. "But only if you agree to go to the baths this afternoon. Heartbreak is awful, friend, but it's no excuse for letting yourself turn into an unfuckable mess."

Blaine nodded in response. "Okay."

Blaine waited for Puck to leave his cell before burying his face in his pillow to muffle his loud, shuddering sobs.

* * *

Kurt took a deep breath and promised himself, once again, that he would stop crying.

He had been in his chamber all day, and couldn't remember the last time he had had anything to eat. He needed a bath badly, and was nowhere near mentally prepared for his soul-walk the following day.

This was it. This was his life. He was going to have to behave like an adult and accept it.

Kurt forced himself to pick at the honeysuckle bush just outside his window, looking across the moonlit gardens of the Great Hall with a sigh. He definitely needed to bathe, but he didn't want to go to the Royal baths, for fear that he might see Firae or Tash or, gods forbid, Sree.

Kurt decided that the walk to the public baths would probably do him good anyhow, and the larger pools were likely to be quite empty. Not many elves bathed at night, save for couples who sought the more secluded smaller pools for their activities.

As he immersed himself in the clear pool Kurt looked up at the moon, doing his meditation exercises for his Rite the following day. He was actually able to attain the proper level of trance for a few moments before thoughts of Blaine once again invaded his placid inner world.

He tried not to let the trickle of the waterfall remind him of the time that he and Blaine had made love beneath a waterfall in S'aufa.

When he reached for the puffy white flowers along the banks in order to wash himself, he tried not to remember the time that he and Blaine had ritually bathed one another before making love at the foot of the Great Mother's shrine.

And when he noticed a shrub dotted with large red flowers close to the line of trees behind the baths, Kurt bit his lip and tried not to cry.

As he walked back to the Hall, Kurt found himself taking an entirely unnecessary detour without even intending to.

All right, so he was going to walk past the North Tower. That was fine. But he was absolutely not going to stop.

Kurt swore to himself when he realized he was standing in front of the tower.

He willed his legs to move him back in the direction of the Hall, but a strange flickering caught his eye. The window of the cell where Blaine was being held was dimming and brightening in a strange rhythm.

Kurt puzzled over it for a moment before remembering that he had noticed Blaine fiddling with the lights the last time he was there. And then Blaine's expression when he had seen his first pixie was in Kurt's mind, and the innocent wonder that seemed to wash over Blaine whenever he encountered something new and exciting from Faerie country, and Kurt imagined that Blaine must have reacted in the same way when he first discovered the lights, and Kurt was sorry he'd missed it because he  _loved_  how excited Blaine got about things like that, and suddenly Kurt found himself climbing the spiraling staircase toward Blaine's cell.

He had to stop. He had to go back to the Hall. What was he even doing? Seeing Blaine would only make everything worse for both of them.

Kurt stopped near the entrance to Blaine's cell. He leaned his forehead against the wall and took some deep breaths. There was still time. He could leave. He didn't have to do this.

Kurt walked to the entrance of the cell. The heavy outer door was open but the inner barred door was in place, and Blaine and Puck were sitting on the bed and conversing softly. Kurt paused for a moment before lightly rapping his knuckle against the bars.

They both looked up at him. No one said anything.

Finally, Puck stood up. "Come on in, Kurt," he said. "It's unlocked."

The only reason Kurt didn't smile was because he wasn't sure he remembered how at the moment. Despite the dull sadness that was slowly becoming his new emotional baseline, he was very happy that Firae had agreed to let Puck stay with Blaine.

Kurt pushed the barred inner door open and stepped into the room. He tried not to look Blaine in the eye, but he felt something akin to a magnetic pull, forcing him to meet Blaine's gaze, to bear the pain he saw there, to endure the intensity and the longing.

Puck cleared his throat. "I'll just...I'll give you some time alone," he muttered, squeezing Kurt's shoulder on his way out of the room, and closing both doors behind him.

Kurt tried to tell Puck that he didn't need to go. He tried to say that there was no reason for Puck to go, that he didn't even mean to come, that he couldn't stay-

"Blaine," he heard himself say.

Blaine continued to hold his gaze. "You're getting married in two days," Blaine said softly, his tone begging Kurt to refute the statement.

"Puck told you."

"Yes. But why didn't... _you_  should have told me, Kurt."

Kurt nodded. "I should have. I just...I...it's too much, Blaine."

"You're telling  _me_  it's too much, Kurt? At least you'll be happy. At least you'll be able to spend your life with someone you love."

Kurt's face crumpled, and he tore his gaze away from Blaine's so that he could sob into his hands.

And even in his anger, even in his hurt, Blaine was with him in an instant, his arms wrapping around Kurt and rubbing his back to soothe him. Because that was who Blaine was. That was who Kurt was giving up. He clutched Blaine and breathed him in and cried until he could form words again.

Kurt's first attempt at coherent speech was unsuccessful, so Blaine pulled away slightly and looked at him.

"It's okay, Kurt," Blaine said, "just...slow down. What did you say?"

"I  _said,"_  Kurt managed between shaking breaths, "that of course I won't be happy, you  _idiot!"_

Blaine's eyes widened in surprise. Kurt had never spoken to him that way before.

"But...you said you love him, Kurt. I thought..."

"Blaine," Kurt said, their eyes locking once more, "I do love him. But I'm  _in_  love with you. And there is most definitely a difference."

Neither of them were exactly sure when it happened.

But it quickly became apparent that they were no longer looking at each other because they were kissing each other, and it was passionate and raw and intense and when Kurt tried to pull back and mutter an apology because Blaine had already told him that he didn't want this if Kurt was going to be with Firae, Blaine just dove at him and kissed him even harder.

It wasn't a blur because every second of contact was sharp and clear and completely real, but it was happening very, very fast. Blaine pulled Kurt toward the bed, their clothing falling away in a trail behind them, until they fell onto the mattress together, naked and pressed close.

And every touch was urgency. Every touch was fire. There had been too many words and too many tears and everything else was broken, but this,  _this_  was whole and unruptured. This was Kurt and Blaine, their essences mingled, this was what they created together that could never be replicated or destroyed.

Blaine reached under the mattress and pulled out a bottle of rose-tinted fluid. Kurt didn't fight the soft laugh that escaped him, but he didn't quip about Blaine always being prepared either.

They didn't speak and they didn't cry.

Urgency melted into reverence and they took their time, kissing each other all over, stroking one another and sighing with pleasure. Each man gave extra attention to his favorite parts of the other, memorizing lines and curves and tastes and textures. They did the things that they knew would produce the most delicious noises from one another, drawing it out, making each other blind with arousal but holding off on anything that could lead to release.

And every few moments, whatever they were doing turned back into kissing. The intimacy of their faces pressed close, their breath becoming one, was so much of what they needed right now.

Kurt spread his legs and Blaine began working him open, and they both just  _knew_  that this was how they wanted it this time.

They kissed while Blaine moved his fingers in and out of Kurt's body, and they kissed as Kurt lifted his legs to wrap around Blaine's waist and slowly pull him inside.

They made love slowly, more slowly than they ever had before. When they weren't kissing, they were looking at each other with tenderness, holding on to the moment for as long as possible, willing time to stand still if only they could figure out how to keep making love forever.

But time did not stand still, and the tenderness inevitably flared back into passion, and Blaine's thrusts became hard and desperate and before long Kurt was crying out as he came, Blaine following soon after.

And even after the lovemaking ended, the kisses continued, hands caressing one another's necks and shoulders and faces, fingers running through sweat-dampened hair.

They kissed until they fell asleep, naked and tangled together.

* * *

Given the position they had fallen asleep in, Blaine wasn't sure how Kurt had managed to slip out without waking him.

He wasn't surprised to wake up alone, though.

Blaine moved onto his side, gazing out at the pink and plum-colored sunrise through the window across the room. He wondered if Kurt had already left for his soul-walk. He wondered what the soul-walk really even  _was._  He had never gotten a proper explanation, but then, he had never asked for one.

He did know that Kurt had told him it was essentially just a formality. A part of the marriage ritual.

The next time he saw Kurt, Kurt would be King.

He would also be married to another man.

Blaine didn't cry. He was still heartbroken and miserable, but he felt strangely calm as well.

Because last night with Kurt had been exactly what he needed.

It had been absolutely incredible.

It had been indescribably beautiful.

And it had also been good-bye.


	29. Chapter 29

The shrine was in a small valley full of roses and lilies as well as other flowers native to Faerie country. It was surrounded by a forest of flower-trees, mostly of a variety that was canopied by deep purple blossoms. The diffused sunlight made Kurt's skin glow violet as he made his way along the rarely-used winding path. So few Sidhe outside of Villalu or Khryslee visited the Blessed Guardian anymore; he had become inexorably linked to human rights and the abolishment of slavery, and there weren't many Sidhe who wanted their spiritual lives flavored with politics.

Of course, everything was flavored with politics, regardless of whether or not one chose to live in ignorance of that fact.

And ignorance was a luxury that Kurt had lost on the way home from his last soul-walk.

It was midmorning when Kurt arrived, bearing a small bottle of sand from the Western sea.

He grew a patch of lilies at the foot of the sand god's statue, gazing reverently at the vine-draped figure holding a stone carving of connected bivalve shells in his palm. If this had been a conventionally planned marriage, Kurt would have had time to procure shells for his offering too. As it stood, he was lucky to find a trader with sand to sell on such short notice. Kurt poured the sand in a circle around the lilies, his eyes still on the connected stone shells.

The connection that remained even after the death of the creature within.

Two halves that can exist separately, but mean so much more when that delicate bond between them remains.

Kurt ran his fingers along the shells in the statue's palm, tracing the connection between them in the gentlest possible way.

He murmured a request that The Blessed Guardian allow him this soul-walk, and then kissed the statue's toes softly and rose to his feet when he received no sign that his request had been rejected.

He found the flowers he was looking for; dark blue glossy petals cupped around a sticky golden center. The center was what held the hallucinogen that would assist him in his trance, but he ate the petals too, as they offset some of the bitterness of the drug.

Kurt undressed completely and settled himself cross-legged before the statue, placing one palm on the sun-warmed stone. He closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply, working himself into as deep a trance as possible, making himself empty and receptive so that he could slip out of his body easily when the Walk began.

* * *

"You need a drink."

Puck strode into Blaine's cell and thumped a large bottle of pale blue liquid onto the table. Blaine looked over at him from the window where he stood.

"What's that?"

"Nectar," Puck said, and then told him what kind of unpronounceable plant it was the nectar  _of,_  as if Blaine would have any idea what he was referring to.

Puck poured two glasses and walked over to Blaine, handing him one.

"To we of the red bracelet," Puck said, clinking their glasses together.

"To true love that never dies," Blaine responded, knocking back the beverage in one swig.

Well, it may have been nectar, but it was obviously  _fermented_  nectar, and decidedly quite alcoholic. Still...the flavor was sweet and delicate and undeniably appealing.

When Puck brought the bottle over to the window, Blaine held his glass out for more. Why the hell not? If ever there were a day to wallow in drunkenness, this would be it.

* * *

When the drug began to take hold, Kurt felt himself move and ripple inside his own skin. Tentatively, he climbed out.

He paused for a moment to observe his body, deep in trance at the foot of the statue. Then he looked up into the now-intelligent eyes of the Blessed Guardian.

Without speaking in the manner of flesh-beings, the god asked him why he had chosen to visit his shrine instead of any other. What could the Blessed Guardian offer Kurt that no other goddess or god could?

Guidance, answered Kurt. The path to Unity.

 _How do I fix what your followers lost?_  He asked.  _How do I achieve a common understanding that may never have existed at all between such different peoples?_

And finally, painfully,  _how do I sever the ligaments that hold us together? How do I let him go?_

The Blessed Guardian looked at him thoughtfully. Finally he signaled that he would send a guide for Kurt.

Kurt couldn't help but feel a pang of mild frustration. He didn't  _want_  a traditional Nuptial Rite for this soul-walk. He already knew that there were at least a handful of lives in which he and Firae had already been perfectly content together. He had seen them the last time. All the answers Kurt needed right now were the sort to come from the Blessed Guardian himself. All a guide could do was show him what he had already seen or, quite possibly, show him things he didn't  _want_  to see. Kurt began to protest, but paused when he felt a cool mistlike whisper of a hand on his shoulder.

He turned around to behold his guide, and all of his arguments against having one evaporated into nothing.

"Mother," he breathed softly, taking her hand.

She was just as he remembered her, with long dark hair and eyes like Kurt's. He took a moment just to drink her in.

She kissed his cheek, and he felt that same cool mistlike touch as her lips brushed against him.

"This way," she said, her voice as musical as he remembered.

She led him into the forest of purple flower-trees, the world around them fading from deep purple into black, and then it was as if he were stepping into the night sky. Galaxies swirled around him, continually growing larger than conceivably possible and then shrinking down until they were smaller than a grain of sand. Kurt had no way to gauge his own size or density, or even if his consciousness was clinging to the illusion of a corporeal body at all. He let himself drift until he found that place, the one place in all the universe reserved for him, his soul, his very essence.

His mother nestled in beside him, and yes, the illusion of corporeal form was back so that he could fully appreciate her presence.

"You have already seen your lives with Firae," she said, and he nodded.

"But there was something else last time, wasn't there?" She continued. "Something that you chose to ignore."

Kurt looked at her uneasily. "I just...I knew I could be happy with Firae. I  _saw_  it. I didn't see any need to...make it more complicated."

"And yet it has become more complicated."

"No," Kurt insisted. "It isn't. I want to marry Firae. I...I care for him a great deal, and if I am King I can change things, mother. I could leave a legacy of-"

"Kurt," she admonished gently, "is there no other way?"

Kurt gave her a puzzled look.

"You chose to ignore the other because it scared you." It wasn't a question. "And yet so few in any world are given such a gift. Do you really choose to deny it? Out of fear?"

"It isn't...it's not...he isn't..."

She stroked his cheek. "He found you anyhow, didn't he?" She asked softly. "Even though you tried to keep him lost to you in this life. He still found you."

Kurt felt a flush of sadness. He was sure that, back at the shrine, his body was shedding tears.

"I miss you," Kurt whispered.

"I miss you too," his mother replied. "Please don't resist this, Kurt. You have to look this time."

Kurt bit his (conceptual) lip, looking at the glittering points around him. They weren't actually stars, but they looked very much like them, and he was drawing a particular set of them toward himself. These were the lives in which he and Firae were together.

Past, present and future, scattered across universes, they did have a connection. That much was undeniable. Firae's life fit his, perhaps more like a mitten than a glove, but it fit nonetheless.

Kurt tried to ignore the heat at his back. He tried not to turn around and see what he knew was there, what had always been there.

He had successfully ignored it last time. Why had the Blessed Guardian not simply answered his questions? Why had he sent him a guide that embodied his mother in every way? Why had he made Kurt come back  _here?_

He had ignored what was behind him last time. This time it was even more difficult.

"Kurt, turn around," his mother said gently.

"I can't," he whispered, fighting it.

* * *

"Puck, what  _is_  this?" Blaine slurred after his fourth glass of nectar. "I feel strange."

"You're just drunk," Puck said idly.

"I've been drunk before, Puck, this feels different."

"Well, you've never had  _this_  to drink before, right? You're probably just not used to Faerie nectars. You'll be fine."

Blaine furrowed his brow. "You only had one."

"Uh, yeah. I thought you needed it more than me today."

Blaine looked at him suspiciously. "Puck, what did you-"

Blaine's eyes rolled back in his head and Puck caught him as he fell, utterly unconscious. He carried Blaine to the bed and laid him down gently.

Puck paused before leaving the room to look down at Blaine with a smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"You'll thank me later," he said cheerfully, as he sauntered out the door whistling to himself.

* * *

Kurt's mother squeezed his hand gently. "It's time for me to go."

"No!" Kurt swore he could feel his heart beating with alarm. "You just...it hasn't been long enough. Don't leave me yet."

"Kurt, there is nothing else for me to show you. You're choosing the path of least resistance, and there doesn't seem to be anything I can do to convince you otherwise."

"No! I'm choosing...it's not the path of least resistance."

"It's the path of least pain, Kurt," his mother ammended.

"You can't be serious. If you even knew how painful this is for me-"

"Is it more painful than letting yourself love as deeply and freely as you are truly capable, knowing that he will leave you alone in this world when he dies?"

Kurt stuttered a bit before finally responding. "It nearly killed me when you died. I don't know if I can do it again."

"Sweetie, you can. You are so strong."

"I don't feel strong," Kurt whimpered brokenly. "I'm just trying to do what's right, and...even if I am afraid, and even if the fear is part of my decision, I can't let the brutality in the world continue. I just can't."

"I know you care about your world, Kurt. You will continue to care, no matter what happens. But marrying Firae...you can't think it is the only way."

"What other way is there?"

"What other ways have you considered?"

"I..." Kurt didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his mother simply didn't understand. If there was another way, of  _course_  he would have found it.

He would have.

Wouldn't he?

"Kurt, turn around. You owe it to yourself to at least see what it is that you are rejecting."

"I know what I am rejecting," Kurt said sadly.

"You know a piece of it. You have the opportunity to know more."

Kurt swallowed. Or seemed to swallow, anyhow.

His mother hugged him. "It's your choice now, Kurt," she said, giving him another kiss on the cheek. "I trust you can find your own way back."

"But I...no..I..." Kurt was so distraught that he didn't even notice the familiar presence at his side.

The presence that was  _so_  familiar, it was like another part of him. Connected by the finest ligament.

His mother did notice, and her eyes shone with what appeared to be tears. Her smile was dazzling.

"Oh, Kurt, he's  _beautiful,"_  she said, and then she was gone.

Kurt glanced at the spot where his mother had been looking and was stunned to find Blaine standing beside him.

"Kurt?" He ventured nervously.

* * *

"Blaine, what are you doing here?" Kurt whispered. This was absolutely  _unheard_  of.

"I was looking for you." Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist. "I found you."

Blaine was obviously dreaming, there was no other way that he could be there. But even in the dream state, how could he find Kurt? This place, this reality that Kurt was occupying was deeper than the world of dreams, and only sages and Elder priestesses could reach it without-

_Puck._

Of course.

Kurt hoped he remembered to thoroughly throttle his friend when he returned to Cloudlen.

"Kurt, where are we?" Blaine asked dreamily. "I feel like if I let go of you I'm going to disappear."

"We...we're somewhere you probably won't remember, Blaine. We are at the heart of all worlds."

"What does it mean?" Blaine asked, his arms grasping Kurt more tightly as he nestled his head against his chest. Kurt was surprised by how warm and solid Blaine felt, almost as if they had never left their bodies at all.

"I'm not sure anyone really knows. But we Sidhe believe that this is where all souls are born. And this is where we come to connect to our other lives."

"Other lives?" Blaine asked with interest.

"Yes. This life is one of many that you have lived and will continue to live. Your essence is not bound by your flesh."

"Are you in any of my other lives?" Blaine asked, kissing Kurt's shoulder.

"Yes," Kurt admitted softly, all too aware of the heat pressing in behind him.

"Can you show me?" Blaine whispered, and Kurt felt his resolve begin to crack.

He didn't turn around. He couldn't. But he did glimpse over his shoulder just long enough to find a cluster of the light-points. He reached behind himself and drew them to his chest.

The small, bright entities swirled before them, and Kurt held his arms around them loosely, tentatively, almost as if he were holding a baby.

"These are lives we have had together, Blaine. Just a few of them." Blaine peered at the tiny star-like lights that seemed to dance in the cradle of Kurt's arms.

Blaine reached to touch one tentatively, and gasped as a bolt of light shot through him.

"Kurt, that was...it was...I mean, it was us, but..."

Without finishing his thought, Blaine touched another light and then another. He stared up at Kurt in wonder.

"Is this real?" He asked in a whisper.

"I suppose that depends on what you mean by real," Kurt mused.

Blaine sighed and wrapped his arms back around Kurt's waist.

They stayed that way for a measureless space of time, until Blaine began to fade, back into the world of dreams, back toward waking life.

Kurt felt so cold and empty when he'd gone.

Blaine had not been afraid to let the visions wash through him. If Blaine had only known what it was that was really pressing in from behind them...

No. Blaine would not have been afraid of that either. Of this Kurt was certain.

The Blessed Guardian had sent him here for a reason. And with or without Puck's interference, the Blessed Guardian had allowed Blaine to find him because he wished it to happen.

Kurt took what he perceived to be a deep breath.

"Courage," he whispered to himself, and turned around.

* * *

The multitude of tiny lights was so intense it nearly blinded him. There were too many to differentiate, too many to count even if he had the rest of his long life to try.

His mother had been right. So few in any world were given such a gift. Such a terrifying, humbling ocean of a gift.

Centering himself, Kurt made a choice.

He allowed his defenses to melt, surrendered all semblance of control. The edges of his form began to blur and drift, and he cast himself wide across the heavens.

The millions (billions?) of twinkling lights began to surge forth, rushing through him, permeating him completely.

And he saw it all.

There were worlds much like the one they lived in now, and worlds that were different in every conceivable way. There were worlds where they were both human, worlds where they were both Sidhe, and there were worlds where they were some other kind of creature altogether. There were lives where they found and lost each other quickly, and lives where they stayed together for years upon years. There were lives where they loved free and proud, and lives where the love they shared got them both killed. There was every kind of barrier and every kind of victory. There were lives of misery where they never truly saw what they were to one another, and there were lives like precious jewels where they found each other so, so young and saw one another with clear eyes from the very first moment.

And in every life, in every world, their essences were unmistakable. They were Kurt and they were Blaine, in any language, in any interpretation. It was always them.

No matter what happened in any world, they would always find their way back to one another.

And no matter what happened in this world, no matter what Kurt chose to do, he and Blaine would belong to each other forever.

With that final realization, everything around him reverberated with a loud, echoing snap.

* * *

Kurt's breathing felt thick and heavy and hard, and it took several dizzying moments to realize that he was back in his body. He slumped to the ground, aware that the sun had already set and that he had a long walk back to Cloudlen.

Kurt allowed himself to lie in the grass for awhile, re-adjusting to being in a body, to time and space and width and depth and shape and size and color. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

His soul-walk had not left him with the sort of firm confidence he was expecting. In fact, he still had some thinking to do on his journey home.

Kurt ate a quick supper of berries and grasses and drank deeply from his flask of water.

As he began the trek back to the Great Hall, back to Firae, who would almost definitely already be waiting for him by now, he pondered.

Two hundred years with Blaine or eight hundred with Firae?

A simple route to lasting power or a slower and currently unclear path toward the change he needed to see?

Fear and pain or comfort and ease?

Searing passion and blinding love or simple contentment and familiarity?

Kurt spent the entire journey home utterly lost in thought.

And when he reached the Great Hall he had finally made his decision.


	30. Chapter 30

**The Night of the Nuptial Rite**

Kurt approached the Great Hall slowly, still too lost in his thoughts to bother reacting to Sree's scowl as she and the other guards on duty moved aside to let him enter.

He felt like he was in a dream as he approached Firae's bedchamber, though it was slowly turning into a gut-twisting and anxiety-filled sort of dream. The sort of dream that made him wake up in a cold sweat, heart pounding. He was really going to do this. After the soul-walk...he just couldn't believe that he was  _really_  going to do this.

He was surprised to enter Firae's bedchamber and find that he wasn't there. Kurt sat on the bed and fidgeted for a bit, before pacing around the room and then mindlessly wandering over to the largest window to gaze out at the North Tower.

He needed to find Firae.

Kurt wandered about the Hall for a bit, but no one was quite sure where Firae was. Yes, he had come back from his soul-walk. Last anyone had seen him, he had been in his bedchamber. Or in the music room. Or at the Royal baths. Or in the garden.

Kurt looked everywhere he could think of before finally retiring to his own chamber.

Which was of course precisely where he found Firae.

Firae turned away from the window and smiled at him as Kurt entered the room.

"There you are. Firae, I've been looking for you  _everywhere."_

"Oh." Firae laughed softly. "I'm sorry. I suppose I thought you would just come back here."

They looked at each other for a long moment.

"So," Firae finally began. "Was it...the same as before?"

Kurt shook his head. "No. You were right to insist that we do this again. Firae, I-"

"It was different for me too," Firae said, moving to sit down on Kurt's bed. "But Kurt, I still love you. I still want to be with you. That hasn't changed at all."

Kurt closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

"I love you too," he said softly, opening his eyes and meeting Firae's. "And Firae, I would be  _honored_  to be your husband."

* * *

**The Wedding Day**

Blaine wanted to give Puck a piece of his mind.

He had awoken in the middle of the night from the most bizarre sleep he had ever experienced, head pounding and stomach full of bile, luckily managing to make it to the window before completely surrendering its contents.

But even after that, he was well aware that something wasn't right. Solid lines were waving and twisting in on themselves, and he kept seeing faces everywhere.

That nectar had not just been nectar. That nectar had  _done_  something to him.

When he woke up again in the morning, the world was back to its usual shape and continuity, but his head was still thumping and his stomach was still squirming. Yes, he would most certainly be having a word with Puck.

But of course, Puck was nowhere to be found. Kiiz had been on duty all night, and she told him that she didn't think Puck would be back before Blaine left for Khryslee. She smiled and asked him if there was a message he would like her to pass along.

The look on her face when Blaine told her exactly what message she could pass along to Puck was one of absolute horror.

Blaine didn't feel even a little bit bad.

And when Puck surprised him by walking into his cell that afternoon, he opened his mouth to demand to know what Puck had been thinking, to find out why Puck apparently got so much pleasure out of kicking a man while he was down – but then he stopped.

The look on Puck's face was...unreadable. He looked oddly serious.

And then Puck's presence and Puck's actions and all of it fell to the back of his mind because behind Puck was Kurt.

And beside Kurt, holding his hand, was Firae.

* * *

**The Night of the Nuptial Rite**

"I hope you mean that," Firae said, smiling up at Kurt.

"Of course I do," Kurt said.

Firae studied his hands for a moment, and then looked back at Kurt.

"And what about...Blaine?"

Kurt blinked. That was the first time that Firae had ever called Blaine by his name.

"I...I've chosen you, Firae. But I do still want to bring Blaine to Khryslee. Like...like you promised I could. After the wedding."

Firae smiled. "Of course," he responded gently, "after the wedding."

* * *

**The Wedding Day**

This was odd. Odd and awkward, and Blaine wasn't enjoying it one bit.

He was sitting in the carriage with Kurt and Firae while Puck drove, and for some reason Firae had insisted on sitting directly beside him.

The seats weren't that large. They were incredibly close to one another.

Kurt sat across from both of them, actively avoiding Blaine's eyes. Mostly, he kept his gaze trained on his lap, where he was wringing his hands mercilessly. Occasionally, he looked up and smiled nervously at Firae.

Having Kurt there was the worst kind of torture of all, because he loved and hated it with equal fierceness, and he couldn't decide if he wanted this carriage ride to be over as soon as possible or if he wanted it to last as long as possible, just so he could spend a few more moments this close to Kurt, able to see him and almost to touch him even if Kurt refused to look at him.

"Blaine," Firae said, and Blaine almost jumped, he was so startled at being addressed by the King.

"I...I want to tell you that I am sorry. I should not have held you prisoner. I am a very passionate man, and I can sometimes be..." Firae looked to the roof of the carriage, then let out a frustrated sigh and said something to Kurt in Elfin.

"Impulsive," Kurt said softly. It was such a blessed treat just to hear his voice.

"Sometimes I can be  _impulsive._  But you saved Kurt's life. You brought him home to us. I should have treated you like an honored guest, not a prisoner."

Firae glanced at Kurt.

"I was jealous," he added, looking strangely self-conscious. "I hope that you can forgive me."

Blaine didn't look at him directly, but he tilted his head slightly in Firae's direction. Was he serious? Was this man who was taking the love of Blaine's life away from him actually asking Blaine to  _forgive_  him for almost killing him? For holding him prisoner? For  _taking the love of his life away from him?_

Still, Blaine reasoned, it was probably a good idea to take into consideration that Firae could burn him on the inside just by looking at him, with the full and complete blessing of the law.

"Yeah, I...guess so," Blaine mumbled.

Firae frowned. "Blaine, I suppose I had hoped you'd be a bit more...gracious than that," Firae said.

Kurt's eyes flickered to Blaine, just for the merest instant, and he looked...

He looked  _confused._

Blaine was beginning to get the distinct impression that he was missing something.

Something big.

* * *

**The Night of the Nuptial Rite**

Kurt was beginning to feel uncomfortable under the scrutiny of Firae's gaze.

"Kurt, my soul-walk..." Firae stood up and began pacing slowly. "Last time it was about you. Just you. But this time..."

"Was there someone else?" Kurt asked softly. He certainly couldn't fault Firae for something like that.

Firae turned and looked at him. "No."

Kurt continued to watch him, as Firae searched for words.

"It...it was more about me. My role as King. My  _legacy._  And...and what sort of a man I want to be. What sort of a  _person."_

Firae paused at the window before turning back to look at Kurt.

"Kurt, I need you to be completely honest with me. If the non-interference doctrine weren't in place, if there were no slavery in Villalu and no exploitation in the border towns...would you still marry me?"

Kurt stared at him.

"Firae, I...that isn't...that's not..."

"Kurt." His tone was so soft and vulnerable, his eyes so open and beseeching, desperate for honesty no matter what the cost.

"No." Kurt couldn't look at him when he said it. He felt his cheeks burning with shame.

"You don't love me, do you, Kurt?"

"Of course I-" Kurt sighed. He had no taste for half-truths and intellectual dishonesty and it was time to be done with them once and for all. He owed Firae that much.

"Firae, I love you. But like family. Like my dearest and most precious friend. When I was sent to Cloudlen for training I was so alone, and you...you breathed life back into the world for me, Firae. You made me feel so special and you  _understood_ me. That's never going to change and I don't think I could ever bear to lose you."

Kurt looked up when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He smiled sadly at Firae through wet eyes.

"You won't lose me, Kurt. You'll never lose me. But I can't marry you."

Kurt stared at him, unblinking.

"I can't marry you because you didn't really choose me. You chose Blaine."

"I...but..."

"Kurt, I don't want a political marriage. I want a love match. I want a life mate. And...and the fact that you were willing to sacrifice that for yourself just to help so many others, just to bring the world closer to a place of justice...I was so selfish and so blind. Because what you're looking to do  _is_  important. There is nothing more important. But Kurt,  _I'm_  the one who should be making that sacrifice, not you."

Kurt was rendered absolutely speechless. He wasn't even sure he was hearing Firae properly. He didn't dare to dream that he was. As subtly as possible, he actually pinched himself on the thigh.

And he felt it.

And that meant that this was real.

And then suddenly it  _was_ real, and it was like an enormous band of iron was cut free from his heart, and it felt so good that it  _hurt,_  and Kurt burst into loud tears that shook his body. He leapt to his feet and threw his arms around Firae, hugging him as tight as he could. "I'm sorry," he managed between sobs. "Firae, I'm so  _sorry._  I wish... I just..."

"I know, Kurt," Firae said, holding him. "I know."

* * *

**The Wedding Day**

"Blaine, I understand that you may not care for me. But I...Kurt is the most important person in the world to me, and he wants us to at least be..." once again he seemed stuck on a word, and after inquiring to Kurt in Elfin, Kurt supplied him with "amicable."

"Yes. Amicable. He would like... _I_  would like us to be amicable. And if  _I_  can try, then surely you can. After all, you're the one he's chosen."

Blaine froze.

He wondered, briefly, if the clearly hallucinogenic nectar that Puck had given him the previous night had completely worn off.

"I...what?"

"Didn't..." Kurt cleared his throat. "Didn't Puck give you my note?"

Blaine stared at him.

And then suddenly he realized what had been happening.

Kurt wasn't avoiding Blaine's gaze because it was too painful or because it would make Firae angry or because he wanted to spare Blaine.

He was doing it to be Kind to  _Firae._  He was doing it because he didn't want Firae to have to see the way he looked at Blaine. He was doing it because he didn't want to make Firae suffer more than he already had.

Because Kurt had chosen  _him._  Kurt had chosen  _Blaine.  
_

"Blaine?" Kurt asked tentatively, still not meeting his gaze.

"Oh. No. Puck never gave me a note. I...I thought you two had gotten married this morning."

Kurt swore in Elfin under his breath, and yelled something to Puck, who responded with a peal of laughter. Firae also laughed softly, but now that Blaine knew what to look for, he saw the pain in the King's eyes.

"Well," Firae said, "that explains a few things. I didn't read Kurt's note, but I can tell you at least some of what it said."

Blaine nodded, still too deeply in shock to do much more.

* * *

**The Night of the Nuptial Rite**

"I am going to need your help, though."

They had gotten through the worst of the tears and the raw emotion, and were sharing a pot of fragrant, calming tea on the garden terrace behind Kurt's room.

Kurt looked at him. "With what?"

"Kurt, I can stop the enforcement of the non-interference doctrine as far as sending Sidhe into exile goes, but there's a lot more to it than that. I only have control of the Eastern Border Lands, and I'll need the cooperation of the other Queendoms as well as the Council of Elders to really see this through. It's going to be difficult and complicated, and it's going to take a long time. This isn't just about ending slavery, this is about changing our relationship with the human governments in Villalu. This is about changing our entire criminal justice system this is..."

"Long overdue," Kurt whispered.

"Yes," Firae agreed. "And I'll need...well, I'll need someone who has been through it first hand. I'll need...I'll need you to talk about it, Kurt. What you went through. What it's actually like in Villalu."

Firae looked at him nervously. "I'm sorry, I just..."

"I'll do it," Kurt said softly. "Of course I'll do it, Firae."

"And I'll also need...well, we're going to need an ambassador to Khryslee, they've come the closest to what I think we're actually looking for, they've got Sidhe and humans living and ruling together and they know how to make it work. We're going to need their help."

"Are you...you want  _me_  to do that? But Firae, I barely know the first thing about-"

"I know. You'll need to keep working with Tash. You have a lot to learn but you're smart, Kurt. And...people respond to you. And being Spiral doesn't hurt your standing either, truth be told."

"All right," Kurt said slowly. "That's...well...this is quite a lot to take in, Firae. Are you sure about all of this?"

"Of course," Firae answered. "I want to be remembered for this, Kurt."

And ah, there was the ego that Kurt knew so well. But he certainly couldn't begrudge Firae that. Not now.

"So," Firae continued, "we should go to Khryslee before you show up there with Blaine. Speak with their Council and...well...if we can't get cooperation from the Khrysleans on this, Kurt, I'm not sure what kind of chance we have, to be honest."

Kurt nodded. "That makes sense."

"So if we leave first thing in the morning and go by grimchin, I imagine that we can be back in time for you and Blaine to leave before nightfall."

"Wait.  _What?_  Are we in that much of a hurry, Firae?"

"Don't you want to get started right away?"

"Well yes, but...I mean... _everything_  has changed, Firae. Maybe we should just take a few days to-"

"Kurt, please," Firae said very softly. "I...it would be a kindness to me if you and Blaine could leave as soon as possible. I'm still in love with you Kurt, and I know that you were with him the other night because I can smell him all over you, and I want you to be happy, Kurt. I really do. But to...to have to  _see_  the two of you, even just walking about together, to see you  _looking_  at each other and knowing that you're with him in _my_  feririar..."

"I understand," Kurt said quickly. "You and I will visit Khryslee in the morning. And I'll leave with Blaine when we get back. "

"I still want to see you and Blaine off," Firae assured him. "And...I want to speak with Blaine. I want to..." Firae sighed. "I suppose I'll have to stop trying to kill him and holding him prisoner and such if you and I are going to continue to be friends."

Kurt smiled slightly. "It might be helpful. You don't need to be  _his_  friend, Firae, but it would mean a lot to me if the two of you were at least amicable."

Firae sighed. "I think I can manage  _amicable,_ " he said.

Kurt stared up at the sky. It was late. He wanted to go see Blaine, to throw himself into his arms and tell him everything that had happened, to laugh and cry and talk and make love and know that they had years to fit all of it in. He  _had_  to let Blaine know.

But he also had to honor Firae. What Firae was doing was so noble and brave and kind, and all he was asking for was a bit of sensitivity. If Kurt showed up for their morning trip to Khryslee reeking of Blaine and exhausted from too much lovemaking and too little sleep (which, knowing Blaine and himself, was more or less inevitable), he would never forgive himself.

Kurt had been willing to suffer for centuries for his principles. Now that he wouldn't have to, one night was certainly not going to kill him. Even if it felt like it might.

But he had to let Blaine know. He couldn't tell Blaine right before Firae had his  _amicable_  chat with him, as that would be torture for all three of them. And he couldn't let Firae chat with Blaine before Blaine knew what had been decided, as that would be decidely cruel to Blaine.

"I'll have Puck bring Blaine a note," Kurt said finally. "And I'll let him know that we will be leaving for Khryslee tomorrow afternoon. Assuming, of course, that all goes well in the morning."

They sat in silence for a while, allowing the intensity to dissolve a bit as they drank their tea and felt the warm night breeze on their skin.

"Kurt?" Firae finally asked against the stillness of the night.

"Yes?"

"You  _are_  in love with him, aren't you?"

"Yes. Very much."

"And the years...?"

"Two hundred, perhaps, if his health is generally good and I extend his life."

"You'll lose some years that way too."

Kurt nodded. "A few. It's worth it."

Firae nodded. "Well, if you love him that much, I suppose it's worth it to me as well."

Kurt took his hand and squeezed it gently.

"Thank you," he said.

* * *

**The Day There Was No Wedding After All**

Firae parted ways with them just outside of the village, members of the Royal guard waiting for their King and Puck, grimchins at the ready.

Upon climbing out of the carriage Kurt instantly lunged at Puck, who danced away from him, giggling uncontrollably.

"I just had to! You're all so fucking  _dramatic_ and  _serious!_  You should have heard yourselves before you realized Blaine hadn't gotten the note! Pure diamonds!"

Blaine couldn't even bring himself to care about Puck's cruel prank, because it was starting to sink in that this was really happening. He was going to Khryslee, and he was going with Kurt. No one was chasing them or trying to kill them. No one was trying to keep them apart.

Kurt looked as if any other circumstance might have led him to end Puck's life, but Blaine could see it in him too. The knowledge. What it meant for them. Even though Kurt still wasn't meeting his eyes, he could sense it there.

Kurt kissed Firae goodbye, and it wasn't a chaste kiss either.

But Blaine didn't mind. Firae was getting one last kiss from Kurt. And Blaine would be kissing Kurt for the rest of his life.

Puck pulled Blaine into a bone-crushing hug before he left, promising to come visit and see if there were any interesting women to bone in Khryslee. Blaine was touched.

"Oh, yeah, and Kurt has this note he asked me to give you," Puck added innocently, tossing a folded piece of parment with a wax seal into Blaine's hand.

As the grimchins took off, Blaine and Kurt stood side by side watching them go. Kurt waved at Firae, his fingers just barely beginning to brush against Blaine's as Firae got farther and farther away. When the grimchins were nothing more than tiny dots on the horizon, their fingers tangled together. They stayed like that for a moment beforethey spun to face each other.

They both opened their mouths to speak. Nothing came out.

Their eyes were fixed on one another and it was so much, it was everything, and they couldn't comprehend it and they were still afraid to hold it too close for fear that it might break and something else might wrench them apart.

"Oh my God, Kurt," Blaine finally whispered before their lips fell together.

And just like that it fell into place, and it was utterly, completely, irrefutably real, and they were holding each other close, so close and tight that they could barely breathe, but they didn't care.

They kissed with intensity but without desperation, and they let the tears fall, they let everything they'd been holding in bubble to the surface and explode and they laughed and cried and kissed, and of course,  _of course_  they made love, right there in the grass beside the carriage without unpacking a thing.

There was I Love You, whispered bright and fervent, against lips and palms and chests and thighs. They said it and they said it and they said it and neither one of them grew tired of hearing it.

But love had never been the question, really. Not between them.

And that night, snuggled warm and sated in the tent, the question, the real question, was finally laid bare.

That night they did something together they had never done before.

That night, for the first time, they talked about their future.

 

* * *

(NOTE: OK, so if this chapter messed with your emotions at all, you really MUST read Thekingonhisboard's liveblog of chapter 30 on tumblr.  You must.  It made me laugh so hard that I almost peed a little.  You can read it [HERE](http://thekingonhisboard.tumblr.com/post/7378095675/okay-okay-so-spoiler-alerts-just-going-to-liveblog).)


	31. Chapter 31

_Blaine._

_I hate that I am writing you this note. Not because I hate what it is going to say, but because I hate that it is a note at all. You don't even know how badly I want to tell you this in person, how physically painful and completely agonizing it is..._

_Do you know what? Before I go any further, I'm just going to tell you the important part. I'm not going to marry Firae, and I want to go to Khryslee with you. I want to be with you in every way for as long as possible._

_I've always wanted this, of course, almost for as long as I've known you, but now I am asking if you will do it._

_Will you?  
_

_Will you come to Khryslee with me, Blaine?_

_Will you make a home and a life with me there?_

_I realize that I've never actually even asked you that. You always made it so clear that it was what you wanted, but now I feel that I really do have to ask, because I have put you through so much, and you've endured it all and you never stopped loving me._

_Also. And I hope you can forgive me for this._

_Blaine, I really was going to marry Firae. I was absolutely going to, and the only reason that I'm not going to is that he let me go. He let me go because he knows that I'm in love with you and because he doesn't want to stand in the way of that. I want you to know that about him._

_Apparently, though, Firae's soul-walk had quite the impact on him, and has allowed him to see what is truly important. He is going to focus his energy on eliminating the slave trade in Villalu and I am going to help him and I hope that you will too._

_Firae is my friend, Blaine, and I really do love him. I hope you can understand that. I hope it isn't something that will come between us, because I need both of you in my life. And I'm sorry that I was willing to let you go. But please know, Blaine, that it took something as monumental as a chance to abolish slavery to make me walk away from you. And as long as I'm never again made to choose between having you and eliminating the suffering of thousands, Blaine, I will never walk away from you again._

_I love you so much that it hurts me from my skin to my core._

_I can't wait to see you. I can't wait to touch you._

_I hate how much I've hurt you._

_I'm sitting in front of the North Tower right now, writing this to you. You're so close it aches. I don't_ _even know why I'm torturing myself like this._

_No. That isn't true. It's because I'd rather be tortured by how close you are than by how far away I am from you. I would sleep at the foot of the Tower if it wouldn't cause a scene, but I don't want to make Firae suffer that kind of humiliation._

_And speaking of Firae once again- Please, Blaine, be sensitive. He told me that he is still in love with me and he's in a lot of pain right now. He wants to talk to you before you and I leave, and I don't want you to be upset and confused if I have to act a bit distant toward you while he is with us. Eventually he will have to get used to seeing us together, of course, but it's much too soon right now, and I'd like to give him some time to move forward. I think compassion is the least I can offer him at this point._

_I'm not pushing. I promise that I'm not. But I hope the two of you can be friends someday. You're both such remarkable men, and you deserve to know and like each other._

_Just think about it. That is all I ask.  
_

_I should probably go get some sleep now, Blaine. Firae and I are meeting with the governing council of Khryslee tomorrow and I need to be moderately articulate. I have so much to tell you!_

_I love you. I love you more than anyone or anything in any world. I can't wait to just be with you, assuming that you still want to be with me._

_All right, I'll stop pretending to be nervous and humble. I know that you still want to be with me. I know you will still want to be with me no matter what kind of pain and frustration I put you through,_ _and I sincerely hope to never have cause to see proof of that again._

_We have spent far too much time crying together, Blaine. I just want to make you smile for the rest of your life._

_And you're still the most beautiful man I've ever seen. The gods don't make them more beautiful than you._

_I can't wait to see you again._

_Did I mention that I love you?_

_Because I love you._

_I love you._

_I love you._

_I will be dreaming of you tonight._

_With love always and forever,_

_Kurt_

* * *

Kurt awoke to Blaine tracing the features of his face lightly with his fingertips. He smiled, impossibly shy, when Kurt opened his eyes, continuing the movements.

"Good morning," Blaine whispered, and Kurt was so overcome with the sweetness of this, of how delicate it all still felt, of how neither of them completely believed that they could really have each other.

"Good morning," Kurt returned, smiling at the feel of Blaine's roughened fingertips ghosting across his skin. He closed his eyes and sighed into the touch, and then felt Blaine gently kiss each of his eyelids.

"I read your note," Blaine said softly. "I do wish I had gotten it when I was supposed to, but it was nice reading it now, with you sleeping right beside me. I'm keeping it forever, I hope you know."

Kurt smiled and pulled Blaine to him, kissing him softly on the lips.

"As long as I get to keep you forever," he murmured, and he could  _feel_  Blaine's smile against him, and then Blaine suddenly pulled Kurt into his arms and hugged him hard.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked gently when he felt Blaine shaking against him. "I thought we  _weren't_ going to cry anymore. I thought we-"

"I can't help it," Blaine managed, his voice trembling. "I'm just so  _happy,_  Kurt."

"I'm happy too," Kurt whispered into Blaine's curls.

Blaine sighed. "Let's just stay right here where everything is perfect."

"In this tent? On the outskirts of Cloudlen?"

"Yes."

"But what about Khryslee? What about my new job? What about your  _dairy farm,_  Blaine?"

Blaine pulled back from the hug to look at Kurt, their arms still draped around one another loosely.

"You're really going to let me have a dairy farm?"

"I don't think you need my permission, Blaine."

"I mean, that's all right with you? Living that way?"

Kurt kissed him. "As long as you're kind to the animals, which I know you will be. It sounds nice, actually."

"I'm not going to know what I'm doing."

"Well, that makes two of us, because I barely know the first thing about politics. But we figured out how to make it here from Villalu Proper in one piece. After that, I'm fairly confident that we can do anything we set our minds to."

Blaine chuckled. "That is a very good point."

They lay in silence, just basking in the moment. They knew that the sooner they could get to Khryslee, the sooner they could be together in their own home. But they weren't ready to leave the moment they were in. Not yet.

It had been so long since either of them had had a place that truly felt like  _home._  The promise of it was almost as exciting as the fact that they were going to have it together.

They had already decided to stay at an inn until they could find some land and home-growers to get started on a house for them. They had spent hours discussing the type of house that they wanted.

Blaine's first and most firm request was that they not live in a tree. As much as he had enjoyed the inn in L'auhe, his recent experience in the cell had tainted the idea of a tree-house for him. It had been a time of such deep pain, and Blaine didn't want his home with Kurt to remind him of it in any way.

They both liked the style of the plant-mounds that Blaine had seen in the border towns as well as in Cloudlen itself. Kurt wanted a second-floor bedroom with a balcony, and lots of windows. Blaine just wanted Kurt. And anything but a tree.

Kurt had begun tracing patterns on a small area in the center of Blaine's chest, perhaps two or three inches below his collar bone. He seemed lost in the task, focused on what he was doing.

"What are you doing?" Blaine murmured. Kurt blushed.

"I just...maybe we're moving too fast," Kurt began. Blaine's heart began to sink.

Of course it was all too perfect. Of  _course_ it was.

"But..."

Blaine had never been so happy to hear a single word before in his life.

"I...I don't want to scare you, Blaine. I know we should probably take our time, because the gods know we have enough of it, but I just...I just..."

"What, Kurt?"

Kurt locked eyes with him, his gaze bright and intense.

"I just want to marry you, Blaine.  _So_  much."

Blaine grabbed Kurt's face, his thumb against Kurt's cheek and Kurt's earlobe between two of Blaine's fingers.

" _Yes,"_  Blaine said, so forcefully that Kurt's eyes widened in surprise. "Please Kurt, yes. I'm yours and I want to be your husband and your lifemate, and I want it now."

Kurt smiled lovingly. "Well, I don't know about  _now,_  Blaine. I want to get settled first, and I want a beautiful wedding. Nothing small and rushed. Not after everything we've been through to have each other. But soon." Kurt continued to trace the spot on Blaine's chest with his fingers while holding Blaine's gaze.

"So...I imagine Puck told you, in emotionally damaging detail, the significance of the red bracelet."

Blaine laughed. "Yes."

"Well, there are pieces of jewelry to signify other types of relationship status too," Kurt said. He moved to sit up, Blaine whimpering slightly at the loss of contact. Kurt moved to his satchel, continuing to speak.

"When a couple is mated for life, they forgo the jewelry in favor of something more permanent. A tattoo of the couple's own design...right on the chest in that place where I was touching you." Blaine reflexively brought his own hand to the spot at Kurt's words.

Kurt fished something out of the satchel and moved back to Blaine, sitting in front of him cross-legged. Blaine also pulled himself into a sitting position.

"But before that, when a couple pledges themselves to one another, they wear pendants of promise. The tattoo is supposed to symbolize the pendant melting into one's body, imprinting itself there, when the promise is fulfilled."

Kurt opened his palm. He held two necklaces; deep green gemstones on lengths of woven fiber.

"When a person puts this on, Blaine, it signifies that the promise has been made. It's very serious and it...it isn't something you just take off. It is almost as serious as the tattoo itself."

Blaine smoothed his fingers over both stones in Kurt's palm.

"Kurt, these aren't...these weren't yours and Firae's, were they?"

Kurt's eyes widened in horror. "Blaine,  _no!_  Firae and I didn't even exchange them this time, the wedding was thrown together so fast, and even if we had...no. I wouldn't do that. These are just for us. They've only ever been just for us."

Blaine smiled. "They're beautiful," he said.

"Blaine," Kurt said nervously, meeting his eyes. "Would you...would you wear my promise pendant? Be my lifemate?"

Blaine started to cry again. He couldn't help it.

"Yes, Kurt, of course," he said between sobs, and Kurt took one of the necklaces and tied it around his neck, adjusting it until the pendant sat against the very spot that Kurt had been tracing patterns into just moments before.

"You look amazing," Kurt breathed, taking in the dark gleaming green against Blaine's dark chest hair and olive skin, the color of the pendant emphasizing the green in his hazel eyes.

But the most beautiful thing about it was what it meant. It meant that Blaine was  _his._ The boys of Khryslee could eat their hearts out.

Blaine smiled and reached to put Kurt's necklace on as well.

"Hey! No! You have to  _ask_  me first."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Kurt, we already-"

"It's tradition," Kurt said softly, in a tone that let Blaine know that this was important to him.

So Blaine took the necklace from Kurt, and looked at him with a watery smile, and now Kurt was crying too, and they really were bad at not making each other cry.

"Kurt," Blaine said, almost choking up before he could get any further than that, because God, this was  _real,_  and Blaine was going to marry someone he was in love with which was something he  _never_  thought he would be able to do, and he loved Kurt so much that he could barely take it.

"Kurt," he began again, making his voice as even as possible. "Will you wear  _my_  promise pendant? Will you be my lifemate?"

Kurt tried to answer verbally but had to just settle for nodding emphatically, crying softly as Blaine tied the necklace around his slender neck, sitting back to admire how striking it looked on Kurt, the deep green against his perfect pale skin, the color of the jewel emphasizing the green in Kurt's eyes.

"You look so beautiful," Blaine breathed, and leaned in to kiss the pendant, then moving to kiss across Kurt's chest, and then his stomach.

"Blaine..." Kurt sighed softly, leaning back.

Blaine moved on top of Kurt, straddling him, their pendants touching when he leaned forward to kiss him.

"One last time in the tent?" Blaine asked, before taking Kurt's earlobe between his lips.

"I will... _oh..._ be so happy to be done with this tent and have a proper bed again," Kurt replied.

"Hey, come on. This is  _our_  tent. This was one of the first things I stole when I decided to help you escape from Dronyen. This was our first bed together."

"Are you referring to this pile of blankets?"

"Yes.  _Our_  pile of blankets."

"We are throwing these blankets away as soon as we reach Khryslee, and we are going to get some  _proper_ bedding."

Blaine kissed down Kurt's neck, and then moved off of him to gently turn him over so that he was lying on his stomach. Blaine then proceeded to trail light kisses down Kurt's spine.

"You're going to miss this tent," Blaine insisted. "You're going to miss making love with me on these blankets. I can just tell."

"Mmmm...the blankets aren't what appeal to me about the experience, Blaine."

"Do you remember the first time we made love in this tent?" Blaine whispered against the flesh of Kurt's back.

"Of course I do," Kurt murmured. "I remember  _every_  time with you..." he sounded like he was going to say more, but his words were swallowed by something between a gasp and a moan when Blaine gently parted the cheeks of his ass to lick across Kurt's entrance, hard and slow.

Blaine held Kurt firmly in place to keep him from writhing too much, Kurt making some of the most amazing sounds that Blaine had ever heard as he continued to work over and around the tiny, puckered hole with his tongue.

"G-gods, Blaine," Kurt gasped out, trying to push up against Blaine's tongue, to draw it inside. Blaine flicked the tip in and then drew it out quickly, teasing him.

"Please," Kurt groaned, and that was all it took before Blaine was reaching for the red blossoms they hadn't used the night before, and stretching him, fingers twisting against the pleasurable spot inside him.

Blaine sat back on his knees and pulled at Kurt's hips gently. Kurt wasted no time in scrambling to his knees and then sinking down onto Blaine's lap, his back flush against Blaine's chest, both men melting together with sighs of deep pleasure.

Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's chest and just held him for a moment, their bodies connected in the most intimate way possible, his fingers stroking the pendant below Kurt's collar bone.

"I never imagined my life could be this perfect," he whispered, and kissed Kurt's shoulder. "I can't believe you're really mine."

"Always and forever," Kurt whispered back, turning his head to kiss Blaine on the lips.

Blaine moved his hands to Kurt's hips and they began moving together, finding a rhythm easily and moving at a leisurely pace.

Their hips worked together, and Kurt allowed his head to fall back on Blaine's shoulder, the shocks of pleasure running through him seeming utterly at odds with the ability to hold his head up. Every so often, one of Blaine's hands would leave his hip, sliding up Kurt's chest to touch the pendant, as if making sure it was still there.

They began to move faster, Kurt pushing his leg muscles, if nothing else, to continue moving. When Blaine touched Kurt's pendant again, Kurt closed his hand on top of Blaine's, feeling the press of Blaine's pendant against his back, Blaine pressing Kurt's own into his chest.

"I love you," Kurt moaned, grinding down even harder onto Blaine and clenching around him. Blaine cried out and pulled Kurt even closer, moving his hand from Kurt's chest to grasp the flower and drizzle Kurt with it before beginning to pump him in time with their movements.

It barely took a few strokes before Kurt was coming hard, and Blaine rocked up into him as Kurt fell back against him, feeling boneless and liquefied. Blaine grasped both of Kurt's hips and lifted and dropped him while thrusting into him hard, and Kurt simply moaned at the saturation of pleasure and sensitivity until Blaine found his own release, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist and placing one hand across his heart as he came, his cry muffled against Kurt's shoulder.

They fell back onto the blankets, panting. After instinctively moving into one another's embrace, Kurt let out a soft laugh.

"Well. I suppose I will miss this tent a  _little._ And I suppose it wouldn't be too terrible to save  _one_  of the blankets."

Blaine smiled at him. "I love you," he said.

* * *

Khryslee was not exactly what Blaine had expected. Well, actually, it more or less was, but the border was what surprised him.

He had not expected something very like a shantytown about a half-mile from the border itself, near the bank of a creek. It was inhabited by all manner of human and Sidhe and...well, a few creatures that seemed similar enough to human and Sidhe as far as their size and shape were concerned, but clearly belonged to a different species altogether.

There were tents and lean-tos and small one-room plant-mounds. Children ran about chasing pixies, and the older inhabitants of the settlement bustled around them, preparing food and repairing clothing and speaking animatedly with one another.

The people seemed reasonably content, but there was an unmistakable aura of sadness about the place as well.

"Khryslee can be difficult to gain admittance to," Kurt reminded Blaine gently, as he drove them through the one road that intersected the settlement. "These are...well, refugees, I suppose. Most of them are from Villalu, but all would rather stay here and keep trying to live in Khryslee than go back to where they came from for one reason or another."

Blaine looked around. There  _did_  seem to be more humans here than anything else.

Blaine turned to Kurt, a worried look on his face. "Kurt, what if they won't let us-"

"Blaine. We have absolutely nothing to worry about. They have already accepted me as the King's ambassador. We'll be fine."

Blaine looked at all of the people around him, some of whom had probably been there for years, and felt a pang of intense guilt.

"That's why we're doing this, Blaine," Kurt said gently, as if reading his mind. "If Firae is successful, these people won't need Khryslee anymore. They'll have the whole world."

"Yes, but...I don't think they would let me in if it weren't for you, Kurt. I don't deserve to live in Khryslee any more than these people do."

Kurt placed a hand on Blaine's knee, and left it there. "Blaine, no one ever knows for sure whether or not they will be admitted to Khryslee. That decision is left solely to the Guardian. And from what I know of her decision-making process, I think you stand a very good chance."

Blaine was going to ask Kurt to explain more, but he was rendered absolutely speechless when he saw the gate.

Blaine had expected something like the border between Faerie country and Villalu. Instead, they were confronted with a single gate. The air was completely clear around it, offering a glimpse into Khryslee. It was completely obvious where Khryslee began and the Eastern Border Lands ended, however, because behind the gate, everything was  _different._

And of course there was the gate itself.

It was the largest thing Blaine had ever seen, and he had absolutely no idea how it could possibly have been built by any hands, human or Sidhe. It consisted of a simple stone archway surrounding heavy wooden double doors with brass pull-rings.

Each pull-ring was about three times the size of their carriage.

The gate extended so high that Blaine had to crane his head significantly to glimpse the top.

He was sure the doors had to be decorative. He couldn't imagine that it was physically possible to open them.

And behind the gate was a place even more beautiful than Faerie country.

The sky seemed to have a slight rose tint, even in full daylight, and the cerulean grasses seemed to actually sparkle as they rippled in the breeze. Blaine saw more trees that were familiar from home than he had seen anywhere else since crossing the border, and the array of flower-trees was simply stunning, casting a gloriously multicolored canopy across the mountain ranges visible in the distance.

Blaine was so transfixed by what he saw that it took a moment for him to realize that Kurt had pulled the carriage to a stop about a hundred feet from the enormous gate. Kurt climbed down from the perch and Blaine followed suit, and after a few steps the seeming lack of a proper border proved itself to be an utterly false impression.

It was difficult to put it into words, even to himself, but Blaine simply  _knew_  that he couldn't pass through. No matter how hard he tried, it would have been physically impossible. His body just wouldn't let him. There was no exhaustion or revulsion, just an absolutely clear and unmistakable inability to walk into Khryslee.

Kurt was looking up toward the top of the gate, and Blaine held his hand above his eyes, visor-style, and looked as well. What appeared to be a large bird was spreading its wings atop the gate, and then it dove down.

The closer it got to them, the more frightened Blaine became. He found himself clutching Kurt's hand and leaning into him.

"It's all right, Blaine," Kurt soothed. "It's just the Guardian."

When she landed before them, Blaine wobbled a bit, feeling his knees buckle, and Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist and held him tight so that he wouldn't fall.

Blaine had never seen anything like her. She was the most awe-inspiring creature he had ever laid eyes on.

Her wingspan was enormous; each wing was easily twice Blaine's height when fully extended. The wings themselves were a gleaming bluish silver, tipped with intense crimson. The lower half of her body was that of a large cat with a tail that seemed to swish continually. The tawny fur began to fade from her body around her chest, neck and head, and those parts of her looked completely and irrefutably human, complete with small but unmistakable bare breasts. Her skin was a bit darker than her fur, a rich, light brown, and the hair on her head was as dark and curly as Blaine's, falling loose across her powerful leonine shoulders. Her lips were full and dark, and her eyes were an impossible shade of aubergine streaked with violet.

She was beautiful.

And when she spoke, the earth seemed to vibrate with it. Blaine was sure that she could reduce him to dust with that voice if she so chose.

It struck him somehow, strangely, as a counterpoint to Kurt's voice. While Kurt's voice was high and soft and yet unmistakably male, this creature's voice was low and gruff but unmistakably female.

"Blaine Anderson," she said, and he almost passed out cold.

The creature waited, her eyes speaking of having all the time in the world and then some.

"I...I..yes...um...Ma'am," Blaine managed, his voice trembling. Kurt continued to hold him, and kissed his forehead softly to reassure him.

The creature looked amused. Blaine wondered what she was.

"I am Sphinx," she replied, as if hearing Blaine's thoughts.

Could she hear Blaine's thoughts?

"Yes," she said, and began circling around them. Kurt seemed completely calm and relaxed, so Blaine tried to force himself to relax as well. After all, if Kurt wasn't afraid of her, she must not pose a threat.

"Oh, I can assure you, I could kill you both quite easily without even trying if I so chose," she stated casually. "But I won't. You pose no threat to Khryslee, so I pose no threat to you."

Blaine let out a heavy sigh. Well, that was certainly good news.

"Why are you here?" She asked in the tone of a teacher who is looking for a specific answer.

"I...I want to live here. With Kurt. I...we...want to get married, and Kurt...well, I'm sure you know about Kurt's job here, and I...I...I think I was thinking about starting a dairy farm?"

The Sphinx settled in front of him, uncomfortably close. She smelled of lilies.

"A dairy farm."

"Um, yes?"

"And what skills do you possess that would make this occupation a fitting one?"

"I...um...like cheese?" She stared at him. "A...a lot. I like cheese a  _lot,_ " he amended, trying to put force behind the words. Unbidden, Puck's argument for why Blaine's love of cheese qualified him to become a cheese-maker popped into his mind, and the Sphinx roared –  _actually roared –_ with laughter.

Blaine felt himself blush hard. "I..I just mean that I want to learn. I'm  _willing_  to learn. But I'll do anything, really, to stay with Kurt."

The Sphinx's expression softened and she looked at Kurt and then back at Blaine.

"You love this Sidhe."

"Yes."

The Sphinx returned her eyes to Kurt, and addressed him by his Elfin name.

"You know you will outlive this human by centuries."

Blaine could feel Kurt's arms tense around him.

"Yes," Kurt said softly, sadly, and Blaine hated that choosing to be with him could make Kurt sound so sad.

"Do you know how many years to expect together?"

"Well," Kurt ventured, "I know that with the healing...I mean, I've heard...maybe...two hundred?"

Blaine's eyes widened and he twisted in Kurt's arms to look at his face, mute with shock. Two hundred years?  _Two hundred years?_  Was this real? Was she serious? Did Blaine misunderstand? Was Kurt actually capable of keeping Blaine alive for another two centuries?

The Sphinx was still looking at Kurt.

"I wouldn't say two hundred, no."

Kurt's face fell. He looked utterly devastated.

"Well," Kurt replied shakily, "I'll take whatever I can. He will be my lifemate for as long as he is alive, And I will be his even after he is gone."

Blaine had no words, so he simply turned completely around in Kurt's arms and hugged him tight.

"Well," he heard the Sphinx say softly, more softly than Blaine thought she was capable of speaking, "I am happy to hear that, and I am sorry to have lead you astray and caused you pain. Because what I really meant is that two hundred years is probably the very least you can expect. You are of the Spiral caste, are you not?"

"Yes," Kurt answered, excitement rising in his voice.

"I am far, far older than either of you, my dears, and I have seen exactly one relationship between a human and a Spiral Sidhe. It was long ago. They are both gone now. But the Sidhe gave her lifemate more than four hundred years."

And this time, when knees began to buckle, they both had to catch each other to keep from falling.

Blaine was fairly certain that his brain was broken. None of this seemed possible in the slightest.

"A-are you sure?" Kurt stammered.

"Yes."

Blaine and Kurt tightened their grip on one another, hugging fiercely. The Sphinx was quiet, as if simply giving them a moment to be speechless together.

When they finally pulled apart, Blaine pulled Kurt to him and kissed him hard. They both had tears of joy in their eyes.

"Blaine Anderson," the Sphinx said, seeming to enjoy using Blaine's full name. Blaine forced himself to turn away from Kurt and face the creature.

After all, he had just found out that he would have four hundred years to hug Kurt. He could spare a few moments.

"Sit."

Blaine obeyed as if guided by invisible strings. The Sphinx drew closer, so close that their faces were almost touching. She looked deeply into his eyes.

And suddenly, he could feel his inner world opening itself up completely, his mind and heart and soul and memories baring themselves helplessly before this almost godlike creature, the creature that, though she could break him with the slightest thought, probed gently and thoroughly.

Blaine had no idea how long it took. Not very long, it seemed, though the sun seemed a bit lower in the sky when he finally came back to himself.

The Sphinx rested on her haunches and tilted her head at him in such a catlike way that he couldn't help but smile.

"You have a pure heart," she said. "One of the purest I've seen. The purest by far of any human I've ever seen."

Blaine could actually  _feel_  Kurt beaming with pride behind him.

"Sanya Forrester is looking for an apprentice at her dairy farm. She specializes in hand-crafted cheeses, and I think the two of you might work well together. I will send word to her to look for you tomorrow."

Slowly and silently, the enormous doors opened behind her. And all Blaine could feel was a sense of  _invitation._

"Welcome to Khryslee, Blaine Anderson," she said, before leaping into the air and soaring out of sight, faster than anything Blaine had ever seen.

Kurt looked down at Blaine, and neither of them could suppress absolutely idiotic grins. Kurt reached out his hand to help pull Blaine to his feet, and then kept pulling him into a long, sweet kiss. When they broke apart, Kurt lay his palm across Blaine's chest, over his promise pendant.

"Welcome home, Blaine," he said with a smile.

"Welcome home, Kurt."

They climbed back onto the perch and rode into Khryslee, hand in hand.


	32. Epilogue

Blaine loved kissing Kurt's tattoo. It was one of his favorite things in the entire world.

They argued over the design for months, and finally, after "that sounds too much like the marriage tattoos you and Firae were going to get," and "For the last time, Blaine, I am  _not_  allowing a wedge of cheese to be tattooed onto my body," they found something that clicked for both of them.

Kurt loved tracing the lines of Blaine's tattoo with his fingertips. Every time he did it it felt like pure love.

At the heart of the design was a dark indigo spiral, and woven through the spiral was a deep green vine. On one end of the vine, pointed skyward, was a lily.

The other end of the vine touched the outer edge of the spiral, the two merging together into one.

When Kurt had initially suggested the red flower growing from that joined point, Blaine had snorted with laughter.

"It's to symbolize our connection to the Mother of All," Kurt said, sounding almost prim, and that had just made Blaine laugh harder.

"Um, Kurt, I think we both know what it  _symbolizes._ "

Kurt frowned at him. Blaine cleared his throat and stopped laughing.

"It's just...I don't know, isn't it a bit lewd for our marriage tattoos? Those are supposed to be sacred."

"But Blaine, sex  _is_  sacred," Kurt said, sounding surprised that it even needed to be said. "I mean, it can be. Sex between  _us_  most definitely is. You know, making love with you was so much of what healed me after I was a slave. When I look at our flowers I don't just think about pleasure. I remember feeling safe and loved in a way I thought was lost to me. I remember falling in love with you."

Needless to say, the final tattoos had red flowers in them.

Each tattoo featured a tightly furled red flower growing from the junction of spiral and vine. Though the flower was closed, a tiny drop of moisture, visible only upon close scrutiny, quivered at the end of the tip.

They both loved the way it felt when their bodies pressed close and they could feel their tattoos touching. It felt like more than skin-on-skin. It felt like soul-on-soul.

After the wedding they walked into their house, hand in hand, and did sacred things for a week straight.

Thankfully Kurt had remembered to arrange for someone to feed the horses.

* * *

Blaine quite liked Sanya.

He also thanked the gods (yes, he most certainly  _was_  picking up on some of Kurt's mannerisms) that he hadn't tried to simply roll up his sleeves and pull together a dairy farm on his own. He had an incredibly large amount to learn.

Sanya was a good teacher, though, and it was nice having another human to talk to. Especially another human with a Sidhe lifemate. They became friends very quickly.

"They're so passionate," Blaine murmured, referring to the Sidhe as a people and his Sidhe in particular.

Sanya smiled. "Yes. And  _possessive."_

"Kurt isn't possessive," Blaine said with a frown.

"Blaine. Please."

And all right, maybe there was that time when Kurt had finally had enough of that gorgeous young Sidhe at the supply store flirting with Blaine all the time and perhaps cracks in the earth had been summoned, and maybe the young man had sobbed and begged for Kurt to let him down from a tangle of writhing vines, only gaining his freedom when he swore never to look at Blaine  _like that_ again.

"That was  _one time,_  Sanya," Blaine said, rolling his eyes. Sanya smirked at him.

* * *

It was years before they properly got back at Puck. They wanted to wait until he couldn't possibly be expecting it.

During one of his regular visits, they plied him with nectar and talked about politics until he passed out from boredom. Later, once they had contained their giddiness, they crept into the guest chamber where he slept heavily.

Getting the bracelet off without damaging it was the hard part. Applying the false tattoo was easy.

It looked real enough, but was only a stain.

The type of stain that wore off quickly.

Really. At most, it took a month or two.

Well, maybe three.

Scrubbing only made the pigment settle, causing it to last longer. They neglected to mention that, even after his initial horror wore off and he realized that it wasn't a real marriage tattoo.

Puck swore that he would destroy them both.

Clutching one another with laughter, they fell in love just a little bit more.

* * *

Most weeks, Blaine attended at least some of Kurt's lessons with him. There was quite a bit of travelling, especially in those early years, mostly between Khryslee and Cloudlen, but also throughout Faerie country. Blaine was an asset, and would become even more of one when they were finally organized enough to venture into Villalu and demand talks with Drayez. Retreating to the farm was a lovely way to escape the stress and insanity of politics. It wasn't that Blaine didn't care, he just needed a counter-balance of placidity. Kurt, on the other hand, was  _all_  passion. The more he began to understand, the more fervent he became.

When Kurt became too intense, Blaine would soothe him down. And when Blaine became too placid, Kurt would rile him up.

It never stopped working, and they never got bored.

* * *

Their first real fight scared the hell out of them both.

It was years before it happened, which allowed the tiny, swallowed remnants of distant hurts to flare up fresh, having never been properly laid to rest the first time.

Kurt had an important audience with the Queen of the Western Isles, a small but powerful Island community that had resisted overturning the non-interference doctrine for many years. He wanted Blaine to go with them, as the Queen had never met an actual human before. Kurt thought it was important that she see that Blaine was truly a person, and one with a pure heart and a noble soul. He wanted to show her that the love between them was real. It was important.

Blaine agreed that it was important. But it was also calving season, and Sanya had lost three of her best farm hands. Without Blaine's help some of the animals, both mother and child, would certainly die unnecessary deaths. Also, Blaine had  _promised_ her that he would be in Khryslee for calving season and that he would help her. He couldn't break a promise to his friend and mentor. Promises were important too.

At first they just argued, but it quickly devolved into something much uglier than that.

Frustrated beyond belief that Blaine would not come with him, Kurt had called him selfish, and accused him of caring more about profit – which they didn't even need, by the way – than saving lives and changing the world.

Stung, Blaine had snapped that the people he loved were more important than abstract causes, and that even though  _Kurt_  may be willing to sacrifice everything for the greater good, Blaine would never abandon someone he loved.

"Maybe if you offer to marry her she'll get on board," Blaine sneered, "and all you'd be losing is me, which you were willing enough to do the last time."

As soon as he said it he felt sick to his stomach.

Kurt had just stared at him, tears of hurt and rage welling up in his eyes, and when Blaine had reached for him, had tried to take it back, Kurt stormed out of the house and didn't come back for hours.

It had absolutely terrified them.

_What if that is how he really sees me? What if that is how he's seen me all along? Does he really think...does he understand...could he actually believe that I..._

_What if he's never really loved me as much as I love him?_

Kurt took a long walk through the forest before finally going home, and found Blaine sitting in the front garden with his head in his hands, looking ashen-faced.

Before they even started, they hugged each other tightly.

What it finally came down to was this:

"What I went through in Villalu still affects me, and it feels like you don't understand how much."

and

"It still hurts that you chose Firae. Even though you didn't want to, it still hurts that you did."

They treated one another like open wounds in the days that followed, careful and delicate and so afraid of causing more damage than had already been done.

And in the end it only made them understand one another more. It only made them kinder and more honest.

Kurt rescheduled his meeting with the Queen.

And after calving season had passed, Blaine went with him to speak to her.

* * *

They created so many moments and memories that some melted together, but there were always those particular moments that lived vivid and strong in their minds, those times when, even after years and decades and centuries, they saw one another afresh and began to fall in love all over again.

Blaine recalled a moment when they had gone for a hike through the mountains on a hot day and found a picturesque bubbling creek, sitting in a small, lush valley as if it had been waiting for them. He remembered the whole day; making love on a bed of flower petals and chasing one another through the flower-trees and never running out of things to talk about.

But the image that stood out, that would come to him and take his breath away at unexpected moments, was of Kurt standing naked and knee-deep in the stream. His hair was wet and his skin glistened with moisture, his marriage tattoo vibrant under the midday sun. His head was thrown back with laughter as water-pixies tickled his legs beneath the surface of the stream, and he looked utterly and completely carefree. He looked like no one had ever hurt him, like life was nothing but pure joy.

Blaine had looked at him and thought  _that is my lifemate,_  and he was so overwhelmed that he had sunk to the ground, his legs unable to continue supporting him, and he had to remind himself to breathe.

A moment like that had happened for Kurt in a musty cave, Blaine pulling him by the hand, his skin seeming to ripple and vibrate with excitement.

Blaine had knelt reverently before the wrapped bundles, like kneeling before a precious living thing or an ancient shrine.

It was the first batch of cheese he had made without Sanya's help, and it was finally aged properly, and Blaine just wanted Kurt with him when he checked to see how it had turned out.

He had learned a skill and he had made something that he was proud of. And even though Kurt couldn't really appreciate what he had made (cheese really just tasted of mold to him), Blaine wanted to show him. And Blaine looked so sweet and happy, so  _excited_  and proud of himself that it nearly broke Kurt's heart with joy.

The image that stayed in Kurt's mind, the one that he couldn't recall without smiling hard and pressing his hand to his own heart was of Blaine's face streaked with whey and his hair wild and bushy as he unwrapped the first bundle nervously and then looked at Kurt with pure, unbridled pride and delight.

And all Kurt could think when he remembered it was  _thank the gods he's mine._

* * *

Meeting Kurt's family of origin in the Western Sea Lands had been terrifying. Kurt's father was a stern and taciturn man, humming with power and presence and confidence, and everyone in that feririar seemed to instantly disapprove of Blaine.

Still, Blaine had insisted.

Because it had been almost seventy-five years since he had seen his own family, and now he knew he would never see them again.

He and Kurt had tried, but it had been the wrong time. Villalu had been in the throes of civil war, and they had had to retreat well before they were halfway there, barely escaping with their lives.

Blaine wasn't even sure if his family had survived the war.

He knew his mother must be dead. It was almost certain that his brother was too. Blaine wondered what kind of man his brother had become. He wondered if he ever had any children.

Blaine wondered if his mother had ever found happiness again.

He wondered what had become of his father in the end.

He wondered if his grandmother's grave had been disturbed.

When he looked in the mirror, he still didn't look a day over twenty.

* * *

Tash ended up settling in Cloudlen. It was more or less an accident; he didn't really care to live in Khryslee, nor was it likely that the Guardian would deem him fit to do so. He had intended to travel to various villages within a reasonable distance from Khryslee to see what he liked best, but he had to admit that Cloudlen was pleasant enough, and one feririar is as good as any other, really, and besides, he had begun to make friends already.

And well. It wasn't just that.

One night he and Kurt were sitting in the enormous dining chamber within the Great Hall in Cloudlen. Kurt and Blaine had come to visit for a few days, and Blaine had gone to bed before the end of Kurt's history lesson, but only after whispering something in his husband's ear that made Kurt look like he wanted nothing more than to follow him.

Tash quickly began to quiz Kurt before he could come up with an excuse to leave.

Kurt submitted miserably, groaning in irritation when Tash went off on the Avalon Pact, something Tash seemed to find endlessly fascinating while Kurt would frankly prefer to discuss methods for aging cheese, and that was really saying something.

Then Firae had joined them with a bottle of watered nectar, and he found the topic incredibly interesting as well, and soon he and Tash were debating passionately, and Kurt easily found an opportunity to slip away.

They barely noticed that he had left the room.

They sipped at their nectar slowly, and discussed ancient history and modern politics and philosophy in general.

And then they heard a shamelessly loud noise from Kurt and Blaine's guest chamber, and Tash made a deliciously snarky remark, and Firae laughed heartily, and then their eyes met and something shifted between them.

And then their own story began.

* * *

There were close calls.

Being human, Blaine was inherently more fragile than Kurt.

And one doesn't think about how many  _accidents_  can happen in four hundred years.

There was the time that Blaine nearly drowned.

And there was the time he fell from the back of a grimchin in flight.

And there was that time the pack of Redcaps got hold of him when they were travelling through the Northern Lowlands.

And each time, Kurt couldn't help but think  _will this be the time? Will this be the time when I finally can't heal him? Will this be how I lose him?_

* * *

Blaine became a very good cheesemaker.

He eventually joined Sanya as a business partner, and then took over the farm completely when she died.

Even Kurt didn't have enough power to extend other humans' lives to the degree that he could extend Blaine's. Kurt could have given Sanya more years, but they would be years that Blaine would lose.

In this, Kurt allowed himself to be selfish. He withstood the pain in the eyes of Sanya's widow, withstood the guilt he felt at having what all the human-mated Sidhe around him would give absolutely anything for.

Kurt gave himself to his work. He gave himself to the betterment of society. And despite it all, he never completely believed that he was good enough to deserve Blaine, or that he deserved to be with him for this long.

But he allowed himself to have Blaine anyway, because the alternative was impossible to consider.

Kurt was glad that he and Firae had had their soul-walks early on in his relationship with Blaine. As intensely as he had loved him then, Kurt knew, years later, that he wouldn't even consider marrying Firae if the decision were in front of him again. There would have been no soul-walks. There would have been no revelation. Tash and Firae would never have found each other, and Kurt would completely ignore the world outside of Khryslee, where he would blissfully hide away in Blaine's arms.

Because somehow,  _somehow_  he just kept loving Blaine more.

And silently he knew that he had absolutely no plans to survive Blaine's death when it came.

* * *

Kurt became a brilliant political mind and speaker. In the early years, his voice shook, but that had had its value too. When he told audiences of his life as a slave in Villalu, he allowed himself to feel what he was saying, chose not to fight the raw emotion.

Because change in human society can actually happen quite fast, but in Faerie country, where a hundred years is a reasonable period of time to stretch out a debate before taking action, Kurt knew that he had to make it real. He had to make them  _feel,_  had to make them understand the urgency.

Because five years may seem like a tiny pebble of time. But five years as a slave is enough to break one utterly. Even a Sidhe.

Blaine worried about Kurt pushing himself too hard. He worried about Kurt having to relive the most horrible moments of his life over and over again every time he spoke.

It was hard when the wars began.

They were safe and untouched in Khryslee, of course, basking in the temperate climate and the clear mountain air and the glittering waterfalls, the air always dancing with flower petals.

But everywhere else it was getting ugly.

Villalu was thrown into a bitter civil war, and Faerie country was stretched almost to the brink of war in the roiling debate that rose up around The Villalu Problem.

The border had essentially become unpassable. There had never been more chaos or violence surrounding it before.

Kurt felt guilty and Blaine felt helpless.

Blaine accompanied Kurt to many of the debates, though he required a translator to grasp what was going on. He felt so small and trifling and petty and  _human_  when compared with these brilliant, powerful creatures, eyes flashing and fire crackling and the ground quaking as they argued.

Blaine clung to Kurt like a barnacle, feeling like a tiny parasite. And in moments like those, when the other ambassadors gave in to their fiery temperaments and lightning crackled across the sky, Kurt would tense and Blaine would squeeze his hand and feel Kurt relax at the pressure.

And then Kurt would reassure him, "you are my rock," and Blaine would realize that it was true, and it made him feel life-sized again.

Blaine was so proud of Kurt it was almost painful to bear. He loved Kurt more all the time, and he couldn't believe that Kurt was truly his. He never fully accepted it, because he never truly believed that he was worthy of Kurt.

But he knew that Kurt wanted him and no one else, he could see it in Kurt's eyes and he never felt a moment of true doubt that this was right, that this was what should be.

He never wanted to stop touching Kurt. He never wanted to stop hearing his voice and his laughter and watching him do everything. He never wanted to stop tracing the pointed tip of Kurt's ear when his head was nestled onto Blaine's chest in sleep. Every time he stroked the tip, Kurt would give a particular murmur, and it was the sweetest sound in Blaine's life.

Blaine never wanted to stop experiencing Kurt. And he knew that he would never have to. Not in this lifetime.

* * *

Blaine worried about what would happen to Kurt when he died. He tried to make Kurt promise to move on, to remarry, to find happiness again.

The first time Blaine brought it up, they had been together just shy of fifty years, and Kurt burst into tears and clutched Blaine close and begged him to stop. So Blaine did.

The next time he brought it up was after Sanya died. Blaine had been with Kurt for one hundred and eighty two years, and Kurt cried again, even harder than before.

After three hundred years, Blaine began to insist upon the promise. Finally, looking vacant and defeated, Kurt did promise, but he didn't look Blaine in the eye when he did.

* * *

In the end they had four hundred and seventeen years together.

The world had changed since they had found each other. Villalu had changed enormously, and even Faerie country had changed to some extent. The non-interference doctrine was gone, and though Khryslee remained protected, other communities modeled after it had started to coagulate.

There was even talk of dissolving the border. It was only talk. But it was talk that once would have been utterly unimaginable.

Slavery still happened, but it was outlawed everywhere. Corruption still happened, but as power became shared amongst more hands, justice began to happen too.

In the end, it was just the two of them at their home in Khryslee. Kurt hadn't wanted to accept it, but he knew that it was coming. He knew that if he continued to heal Blaine it would only prolong his suffering. He knew that it was the end.

And as he held him in his arms and felt Blaine slip away from him, Kurt sang to him. He sang a song of such clear and deep mourning that it would have broken the heart of anyone who heard it. He sang of deep love at the core of his soul, and even his tears did not obscure the beauty of the music, of his voice.

That song was the last thing that Blaine heard in this life.

And until the very end, until that last moment, he never stopped amazing Kurt. In the end his hair was gray and his face was deeply lined, but Kurt didn't even notice. Because until the very end he took Kurt's breath away.

Until the very end, he was still his Beautiful Blaine.

* * *

Kurt recalled a moment, centuries ago. It hadn't been a full week since Blaine had freed him from Dronyen.

It was the moment when he let Blaine hold him for the first time. And then he had opened himself up utterly to this strange man that he barely knew, this strange man that he couldn't help but instinctively trust on a level so deep it frightened him.

He had told Blaine that he had the power to break him.

And in all of their years together, Blaine had never used that power. He had never broken Kurt.

Until now.

Kurt wasn't merely broken when Blaine died, he was shattered. He was ground into dust. He cried until he was numb, and as soon as the numbness began to wane he would cry some more.

He couldn't feel a single emotion that wasn't focused on Blaine. He could barely breathe without it reminding him of Blaine.

After Blaine was laid to rest, Kurt disappeared and Firae sent out legions of search parties.

Kurt didn't even bother to arrange for the animals to be fed when he left.

It had been months and they had all but given up hope when a winged creature swooped into Cloudlen bearing a slumped figure on its back.

The Guardian had found him living in a cave, though "living" would have been a strong word to use. Kurt wanted to die but he couldn't even summon the strength to take his own life in a proactive manner. So instead he had chosen to simply cease doing those things that would keep him alive. The Guardian had found him dirty, starving and shivering in tattered rags, but somehow still possessing the strength to cry almost continuously.

Firae and Tash took Kurt in to the Great Hall and cleaned him and fed him and forced him to stay alive.

No one had to say that Kurt would be staying with them, that he wouldn't be returning to Khryslee.

No one had to say that as miraculous as it was that Kurt had survived at all, there was simply no way that he could survive facing the home he had shared with Blaine.

Puck waited on him hand and foot, even after he had completely given up on trying to make Kurt smile.

And when Puck looked at Kurt, he thanked the gods that  _he_  hadn't been cursed to love someone so much.

Kurt didn't speak a single word for over a year.

And when he finally did speak, it was barely more than a whisper. A tiny creature landed on his knee and peered up at him curiously.

Kurt smiled, ever so slightly.

"Blaine always liked pixies," he said softly, through the tears that never seemed to stop falling.

And Tash and Puck looked at one another and sighed deeply with relief.

* * *

He had promised Blaine that he would move on and remarry.

It was the one promise to his husband that he never kept.

After the customary grieving period, it was common practice to have one's marriage tattoo removed, or at least altered.

But Kurt didn't. Instead he had his tattoo retouched every twenty years.

When Firae tried to gently suggest that perhaps that wasn't the healthiest thing to be doing, Kurt simply ignored him.

Sometimes he swore that he could still feel Blaine's soft lips brushing across the design.

He was never the same. He knew that, and he didn't care.

There were nights when death beckoned so strong that Kurt screamed and writhed to resist it. He wanted nothing more than to end this life, this flat, gray world that Blaine's soul had left him in alone. But he knew how much it would have hurt Blaine to even think of Kurt doing it. He knew how much it would hurt his friends, who had given so much to try and help him heal.

He never really healed. But he did learn how to function again.

And when he got a handle on functioning, he began to care again.

About his friends. About his career. About his world.

He threw himself into his work utterly and completely, doing his best to work himself to exhaustion every night so that he wouldn't have to think about sleeping alone before he was released into dreams.

Kurt often preferred sleep to waking life, preferred sinking into a dreamworld full of hazel eyes and warm olive skin and dark curls and the scent of Blaine everywhere.

But sometimes the good dreams were worse than the nightmares.

Sometimes he woke up, his stomach trembling with excitement because they had  _found a way!_  Blaine was somehow back, and they were together and everything was going to be okay after all.

And then the realization hit him like a stab to the gut, and it was like losing him all over again.

He never forgot him.

He never stopped missing him.

If his heart were in it, Kurt probably would have lived longer than seven hundred years. Seven hundred isn't young for an average Sidhe, but those of the Spiral caste usually lived longer.

Kurt didn't look for death. But he greeted it with calm acceptance when it found him.

* * *

Memories of the soul live well below one's consciousness, especially in worlds that are far removed from the gods. But the strong memories, the important ones grip tight in ways that people rarely understand.

Because how could they understand?

Especially when it had all happened so long ago?

And perhaps it was the time he had spent mourning, the centuries of hollow aching, that caused Kurt to feel it first this time.

It certainly felt like he had been waiting centuries for Blaine to notice him, to see him as more than a friend. But Kurt had dismissed the intensity of his own feelings, because it wasn't uncommon for a few months to seem like an eternity to a twenty-first century American teenager.

And perhaps it was the lifetimes he had lived between finding Kurt this time and having him the last time that caused Blaine to misinterpret that nagging feeling he had, looking for happiness everywhere except the most obvious place possible.

But one thing was absolutely certain, though Blaine couldn't find the words to properly explain it.

When Kurt sang his song of mourning over a pet bird, a memory twisted free from deep within Blaine and washed over him.

He didn't understand, but he had heard this before. He had  _felt_  this before. The pain and the love in Kurt's beautiful voice disarmed him completely and moved him profoundly.

And when it became clear, it was the clearest thing he had ever seen in his young life. Suddenly the world and the people around him were earth tones, and Kurt was painted in primary colors.

As Blaine looked at Kurt, a thought came into his mind.

_There you are. I've been looking for you forever._

It takes him only a few days to find the courage to say it to Kurt.

And soon after, hearts pounding, Blaine leans toward him and finally,  _finally_ their lips meet again, in yet another first kiss.

 

* * *

**The End**

* * *


	33. Chapter 33

August 5, 2015

 

Hello! I hope you enjoyed _The Sidhe_ fanfic.

I originally posted _The Sidhe_ on fanfiction.net in 2011, and now, four years later,  _The Sidhe_ has been adapted to an original novel and published by Interlude Press as the first book in  _The Heart of All Worlds_ trilogy. _The King and the Criminal,_ The second book in the trilogy, was published in December 2016, and the third book in the trilogy, _The Sixth Anchor,_ will be released sometime in early 2018. If you are interested in buying my books in either print or ebook form, links to all vendors can be found [HERE](http://www.charlotteashe.com/shop).

The novel version of _The Sidhe_  is different from the fic. A lot of content from the original fic has been preserved, but a lot has been added and changed as well. If you are thinking of reading the fic instead of Book One and then skipping to the second book in the series, you will find yourself quite lost (though if that's what you'd like to do, I certainly won't try and stop you).

When I signed with Interlude Press to publish this trilogy, I had no plans to pull the fanfiction version of  _The Sidhe_ from the internet. That is still the case. However, I have decided to change my fandom presence online in order to keep it to fandom. When folks who are not part of the Klaine fandom search for  _The Sidhe_  online I would prefer they find my book and not the fic. The fic is for you guys. I'd like to keep it that way. As such, I will be moving all of my fanfic here to Ao3 over the next couple of months, and I will be changing my settings here so that my Ao3 account will be hidden from most search engines. You can still find my fic here, you just may not find it by way of a google search.

Thank you so much for reading my fic. There is more to come, I promise, even if I'm writing fic at a bit of a snail's pace these days. :)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the fic! For a boatload of extras in the Sidhe universe - fan art, fan music, drabbles, headcanons and so forth - please check out my Sidhe 'verse masterpost on tumblr: 
> 
> http://chazzam.tumblr.com/post/84186124715/klaine-sidhe-verse-masterpost
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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